The Honeymooners
by Aggiebell
Summary: Their wedding went just like they planned. Their honeymoon, however...
1. Chapter 1

Written for the Ashes Fic-a-fest at LiveJournal, for Eimajunknown, who gave the following prompt: _It's Harry and Ginny's honeymoon and everything goes wrong._

Anything you recognize in here belongs to J.K. Rowling; I'm just borrowing Harry and Ginny for a few moments.

* * *

Harry looked down at the woman in his arms and pulled her closer as they danced. He'd been looking forward to this day for what seemed like ages, and it was finally here.

He'd made Ginny his wife.

It had really been a perfect day. Even the highly unpredictable March weather had cooperated. Their family and friends had surrounded them when they said their vows. Molly and Hermione had cried, and Harry thought he'd seen Arthur surreptitiously wipe a tear away when he'd given his only daughter away.

Ginny had been brilliant. From her cream-coloured robes to her hair to the flowers she carried, she was perfection. She took his breath away every time he looked at her.

But now he was beginning to get impatient. He just knew that as brilliant as Ginny looked _in_ her wedding robes, she'd look even _more_ brilliant out of them.

Her arms tightened around his neck, and he looked into her eyes before leaning down to kiss her again.

"When can we leave?" she murmured when they pulled apart. Her body moulded against his.

"Bit keen, are we?" Harry asked with a smirk. Truth be told, so was he. He'd been ready for the two of them to get started on their new life together for what seemed like forever.

"With you? Always," she replied, her voice sultry and full of promise.

He gulped, then took her hand in his and led her off the dance floor and over to her parents. Their "quick good-bye" lingered a bit longer than he would've liked, but finally, they were able to free themselves and leave.

He thought of all the plans he'd made for their honeymoon, going over them in his head one last time. He'd taken care to keep their destination for the night a secret from everyone save Ron and Hermione, to prevent anything...untoward...happening. He loved Ginny's family, but he really didn't want them involved in his honeymoon...especially the twins.

His smile was self-satisfied as he Side-Along Apparated Ginny to their hotel. It was going to be perfect.

* * *

It was wretched.

Ginny stood off to the side in the hotel lobby, watching as he attempted to check into the honeymoon suite. Unfortunately, _attempted_ was the operative word.

"Harry, is everything all right?"

He flashed his wife a tight smile. "Of course it is, love. Just give me a minute, and we'll be able to go up to our room."

Then he turned to the clerk. "What do you _mean_ there are no reservations under the name of Potter?" he whispered harshly. "I have the confirmation right here." He dug in his pocket and pulled out a slightly crumpled piece of parchment. "Reservations for HJ Potter for the honeymoon suite for Saturday the twentieth of March." He thought something sounded odd about the date, but pushed it out of his mind until the clerk spoke again.

"Ah. I believe that you have found our problem, Mr Potter. Today is not the twentieth; today is the thirteenth."

"_What?_" His voice rose in pitch, and it was much louder than he'd intended.

"Harry?" she called again.

"Be right there, Ginny."

"I'll bloody well kill Ron," he muttered under his breath. "Ask him to do one thing for me, _one_ thing, and he bollocks it up. 'Of course, I'll make the reservations for you,' he says. 'It'll be no trouble at all. Want your day to be special, don't we?' he says."

"Mr Potter?" The clerk sounded nervous.

Harry sighed and apologised to the clerk. It wasn't his fault. His gigantic prat of a best mate, however...

"Is there any way we could get another room, just for tonight? It's our wedding night, and we don't have anywhere to go until tomorrow."

The man gave Harry a sympathetic look. "Let me check." He paused and rifled through some parchment for a moment before continuing. "We do have one room left. It's considerably smaller than the honeymoon suite, though."

"We'll take it," Harry said, relieved. True, it wasn't what he'd planned, but they'd still have a nice room...and a bed...for their wedding night, and that was all that mattered.

He signed the register with a flourish and took the key before leading the way to their room. It was on the first floor rather than the top, and it opened into the corridor, but it would be fine. Or so he thought until he opened the door after sweeping Ginny up in his arms to carry her across the threshold.

"Bloody hell," he grumbled when he saw the room. The decor was just what one would expect when looking at a nice, moderately expensive hotel room, except for one thing.

"Single beds, Harry?" Ginny asked from his arms.

"Your brother made the reservations for the honeymoon suite for our wedding night."

"Why are we in this room, then?" she asked, confused.

"For the twentieth of March."

"But it's the--"

"Thirteenth. Yes." He looked at her, hoping she could see how remorseful he felt. "I'm sorry, Gin. But it's only one night, and I promise to make it up to you. I know it's not what you expected--"

"Oh, shut it, Harry. It's not your fault; it's the fault of that gormless prat I call a brother." She walked over and sat on the bed nearest the window, bounced just a bit on the mattress, then patted the spot beside her. "We'll just have to hex Ron when we get back to make up for it. This will work," she said. "It's not like we're going to need more room than what we have here." She grinned and stood up, sauntering over to him and giving him a lingering kiss. "Why don't I just go change in to something more comfortable while you order some champagne..." She trailed off suggestively, and Harry marvelled again at his luck. She really _was_ brilliant.

After pulling them from his jacket pocket, he enlarged their overnight bags and handed Ginny hers. Then he busied himself with ordering some champagne, strawberries and chocolate while he waited on her to change in the loo. But when their food arrived and she still hadn't come out, he started to get worried.

"Ginny? Is everything all right?" he asked.

"I _will_ kill them," he heard her mutter through the door. "Think they're funny, do they? Well, wait 'til I get through with them. Then they'll know funny. Gits."

"Ginny? The food's here. Why don't you come out, love?"

She opened the door a crack. "I can't." She paused, then added, "I don't want to."

"Come on, Ginny. It's not like I haven't seen you in a bikini. What's the difference?"

"The difference is that when I was in my bikini, I actually _had_ clothes on."

His eyebrows shot up at that comment. "Erm...do you mean you _don't_ have clothes on now? Because I wouldn't mind, if that were the case. But I know you went in there to change, and I'm looking forward to seeing you in some of that lingerie you brought home from your hen night." He still couldn't believe that she'd shown him all of her new gifts. She had some wicked friends, and he'd been thinking of her in that skimpy black number...and the green one...and the blue lacy one...ever since.

"I still have clothes on, you pervert. But I can't very well come out in lingerie if I can't get it on, now can I?" she said, clearly very exasperated. She opened the door and stuck her head out, handing him a mass of satiny material "Someone made certain of that. The openings are stuck shut, and it's all been sewn into one long line of satin and silk and lace."

Harry groaned. He wanted to see her in that lingerie so badly he could almost taste it. He shook his head to clear it. "Are you a witch or not, Ginny? Isn't there a spell or something to help with that?"

If looks could kill, he thought he'd be lying dead on the floor from the force of the glare she gave him. "Don't you think I've tried that, Harry? And look what else I found." She handed him a note and a pair of high-necked flannel pyjamas.

"_Dearest Ginny,_ " Harry read aloud. "_Surprise! Now, now, little sister, before you lose your temper, let us remind you that, as your big brothers, it is our duty--nay, our sacred honour--to protect your virtue, even on this, your wedding night. Perhaps, when you're older and wiser and no longer in need of our protection, you might be able to convince us to remove the spell that will allow you to utilise these lovely, if very brief, garments to their fullest potential. Until then, we're afraid that you're stuck with flannel. _

_Love, Gred and Forge. _

_P.S. Give our best to your husband._ "

He looked up at her. "They spelled your knickers closed?"

"Only the sexy ones. They left these--" she held out a pair of old-fashioned pantaloons-- "as replacements."

Harry coughed to hide his laughter, and she glared at him again. "It's not funny, Harry. I had it all planned out. I was going to come out there wearing the sexiest thing you could ever imagine and you weren't going to be able to keep your eyes off of me, and _look_! Look at what they left me with."

"Ginny. Love. It's all right."

"No it's not! It's our wedding night, and we don't have the right room because of Ron, and I don't have anything to wear because of the stupid twins, and it was supposed to be perfect, and it's not."

"Do you still have your wedding robes on?" he asked suddenly.

"Obviously, since I don't have anything else to change into. Why?"

"Why don't you come out here and find out," he suggested. His breath caught when he saw her; although he hadn't thought it possible, she was more beautiful than before. Her cheeks were flushed from anger and she'd taken her hair down so it floated around her shoulders, emphasizing the creaminess of her skin.

"You are the most beautiful thing I've ever seen," he said, pulling her into his arms. "You don't need a sexy negligee to get me so I can't keep my eyes off of you. You do that just by being you." He released her and took her hand, pulling her over towards one of the beds, where he took her into his arms again and kissed her fiercely. His hands wandered over her back, fumbling with the buttons there.

He lifted his head and stared into her eyes as he slipped the buttons through their holes, exposing her skin to his touch. _This,_ he thought, _was exactly what he'd imagined when he thought of his honeymoon._

* * *

This was _not_ what he'd imagined his honeymoon would be like.

First, they hadn't been able to get into the honeymoon suite like he'd planned. Then they'd found Ginny's underthings sewn together in such a way that even between the two of them, they couldn't get them apart.

And then...

"Ow! Bloody hell," Harry grumbled from the floor where he'd just landed. It was half-six in the morning, much earlier than he'd planned, and he'd woken up after falling out of the bed when he rolled over. "Stop laughing," he ordered his giggling wife, which only made her laugh harder.

"Oh, Harry. I wish you could've seen your face," she said. "It was priceless."

"You try landing on your arse while starkers and see how you like it, then," he said, scowling.

"I told you we should've enlarged the bed," she replied. "But you said, 'We don't need to make it bigger. There's plenty of room,' remember? You said something about wanting to hold me close while we slept."

"Well, I did," he retorted. "And I slept perfectly well, thank you, until I tried to roll over without stealing the blankets off of you. _That's_ when I landed on the floor."

"Awww, poor baby," she said, grinning. Then she waggled her eyebrows at him and budged over towards the wall. "There's room up here. I can help you soothe your sore bum, if you like."

"Yeah?" he asked, his voice husky.

"Come on up and see," she suggested, and proceeded to show him exactly what she meant.

Later that morning...much, _much_ later...they decided to get dressed and continue on to their next destination. Although Harry's bum was still sore, he was actually feeling pretty confident about the day's prospects. A morning spent in bed (and the shower) with his wife tended to improve his disposition, or so he'd discovered. So he was in a chipper mood when he began to pull his clothes out of his bag, ready to prepare for the day.

Ginny was dressed in one of the robes provided by the hotel and running a brush through her hair as she watched him dress. She smiled and her eyes raked over his body when he dropped his towel in order to don his boxers.

"Stop staring, Ginny, or we'll never get out of here," he said.

"You wouldn't mind, and you know it, Potter," she shot back at him.

"True, that," he replied, giving her a cocky grin. "But we've reservations in Cyprus, and I'd like to actually make it there." He held open the waistband of his boxers, lifted his left foot to step into them...and promptly lost his balance and landed on his bum again.

"Damn it!"

They'd sewed the legs shut.

He heard Ginny gasp as she ran over to help him up. "Are you all right?"

"Other than my arse and my pride?" he asked. "I'm fine. But I'm going to kill your brothers." Standing, he grabbed his wand from the bedside table and pointed it at the offending garment, saying, "_Finite Incantatem._" He tried sticking his hand through the leg of his pants again, only to be met with a wall of material. Then, as Ginny watched, he tried every other spell he knew that might cancel the effects of the sewing charm the twins had used, to no avail.

"They got you, too, huh?" Ginny said sympathetically.

He raised his eyes to hers. "One way or another, we _will _get your brothers back."

"Absolutely."

* * *

"Look at how gorgeous it is, Harry," Ginny gushed. "The sand is so white and the water! I never knew it could be so blue," Harry watched his wife fondly as she took in their surroundings, awe plainly visible in her eyes. He'd known she'd love the beach.

She turned to him. "You're certain we have reservations?" He nodded. "For this hotel? For the fourteenth of March?" He nodded again.

"I'm positive, Ginny. Here's the confirmation notice, and here's our luggage claim." She gave him a brilliant smile and he sighed in relief. Maybe, if he were lucky, they'd be able to forget how terribly their honeymoon had started and make some fabulous memories. That was his plan, in any case.

At the reception desk, Harry breathed another sigh of relief as the clerk gave him the key to a private bungalow, which was located directly on the beach and boasted of its own private shoreline. After getting directions and being assured that their luggage, which they had sent on ahead of them, had been deposited in their room earlier that morning, the couple leisurely made their way towards the little cottage that would be their home for the next week.

Harry knew, as soon as they arrived at Bungalow number 7, that he had indeed made the right choice for their honeymoon destination. Ginny was obviously enraptured as she watched the waves pound the shoreline, and her eyes sparkled with excitement.

"Can we go swimming?" she asked enthusiastically.

He gave her an indulgent smile. "Anything you want, love."

He watched as pink tinged her cheeks. "Anything?" she asked coyly.

"Anything," he responded, his voice filled with promise.

She gave him a cheeky grin. "Right, then. I want to swim. Come on, Harry! Let's change!" She grabbed him by the hand and pulled him into the bungalow, stopping dead when she saw the room.

It had an open floor plan, with one large central room and several smaller alcoves. There was a small kitchen and dining area, and a living area with two loveseats around a short mahogany table. But by far the most impressive feature of the room was the large four-poster bed that stood off to the side, beside the floor-to-ceiling picture windows gracing the front of the bungalow. Harry could very easily imagine lying in that bed with Ginny, sated by their lovemaking and watching and listening to the ebb and flow of the water.

"Wow," she said. "This is..."

"Yeah. It is, isn't it?" He was somewhat surprised at the pride he felt because of her reaction to the room.

She made her way over to the wardrobe and opened it with the obvious intention of retrieving their swimming costumes, but stopped short once the doors were fully opened.

"Harry?" she called. "Didn't they say our luggage was in our room?"

"Yeah. It should be right there." He stepped closer to her and peered over her shoulder into the wardrobe, only to find it empty. "That's odd. Maybe they put it somewhere else." They turned away and looked around the bungalow, going so far as to try to Summon the luggage before giving up in defeat.

"It's not here," Harry said, after his fifth attempt at the Summoning Charm failed to retrieve anything other than their overnight bags.

Ginny surveyed the room again. "I'm going to the front to ask for our luggage," she said. "You stay here and look some more. I'll be right back."

"Why don't I--" he began, but he stopped speaking when he noticed she was no longer in the room.

He half-heartedly tried another Summoning Charm and even got down on his hands and knees to check under the bed, which was unfortunately the position he was in when his wife returned, the hotel manager in tow. Embarrassed, he rose to his feet and brushed off the knees of his trousers.

"Mr Potter, your wife tells me that you can not find your luggage. I have a record here that says it was deposited in this room promptly at half past ten this morning." The manager showed the couple a parchment with a list of timestamps and charms, tracking their luggage from when it arrived at the hotel on the day before, the time it spent in the holding area, and the Banishing Charm that sent it to the room. She waved her wand, and an imprint of their luggage appeared outside the wardrobe, along with a time, stating it had arrived at precisely thirty-minutes past ten o'clock.

Frustrated, Harry said, "That's fine. It was here then. But it's not here now, and I'd like to know what happened to it. We're paying a significant amount of Galleons to stay here, and I can promise you, this is not leaving me with a good first impression."

The manager's face fell. "Of course, Mr Potter. I have our best employees searching for your luggage as we speak, and we will, of course, compensate you for your trouble. We'll let you know what we've found as soon as possible."

After she left with a promise of free room service for the duration of their stay, Harry sank to the bed, and Ginny followed suit beside him. He hated the look of disappointment on her face, and, after thinking for a few moments, he resolved to replace it with a look of happiness and satisfaction.

"Come on," he said as he stood up and grabbed Ginny's hand. "Let's go shopping."

"Harry..."

"No, look. It's a good idea," he said hurriedly. "We'll go out and get what we need. If they find our luggage, great. But if not, we won't have to stay in these clothes for the entire week."

She grinned and looked at him, her gaze predatory. "Who says we'll need clothes?" she asked, running her hand up his back to tangle in his hair. She pulled him closer for a searing kiss, and all plans of shopping flew out of Harry's head.

Some time later, the newlyweds left the bungalow hand in hand and made their way to the shopping district. The sights and sounds were almost overwhelming, and Harry found his head turning left and right as he tried to take everything in. He dragged Ginny into boutique after boutique, watching as she replaced her clothes and personal items, and then she did the same for him.

They were headed back to the bungalow when a display in a small, seedy-looking shop caught his eye. There were two small travelling trunks, and a not-so-tastefully arranged collection of clothing.

Familiar looking clothing.

"_GET A PIECE OF HARRY POTTER'S LUGGAGE!_" the sign read in lurid, flashing lime-green letters. Underneath, in smaller print, it said, "_Own articles of clothing actually worn by the Boy Who Lived and his new wife. Enquire inside._"

He stared at the sign in disbelief. There was their luggage. Their clothes...his _pants_for Merlin's sake! And Ginny's lingerie. And their _toothbrushes_!

He turned to Ginny to determine how she was feeling about the situation, only to notice that she was no longer standing next to him. Instead, she was stalking towards the shop, her long red hair trailing behind her, hands clenched at her side, anger evident in her step.

He hurried after her and caught up with her just as she opened the door, following her inside as she strode to the counter.

"How may I help you, miss?" the man at the till asked obsequiously.

"That luggage in the window, the stuff you claim belongs to Harry Potter," Ginny began, her voice clipped, "where did you get it?"

The man's eyes narrowed, and he dropped the fawning attitude. "Why do you care?"

"Because," Ginny responded coldly, eyes flaring. "It's _mine_." Harry was torn between being glad that Ginny had never been that angry with him and amused at the beads of sweat that had broken out over the slimy man's forehead. Ginny, when she was angry, was a force to be reckoned with.

Still, he had to admire the man's courage--or his stupidity, Harry wasn't certain which--when he said, "Prove it."

Ginny's wand was out and pointing between the man's eyes before Harry could blink. "Look, you slimy excuse of a human being, I don't know who the hell you think you are, but you have _our_ things in your store window. I expect you to go over there right now, pack it up and give it to us."

"And what if I don't? You'll be causing me the loss of a lot of Galleons, taking those things."

Harry shook his head in disbelief. Had the brains of a flobberworm, this bloke.

Harry watched as Ginny's wand dropped slowly from between the clerk's eyes to point at a more...valuable part of his anatomy. "Do you really want to know what I'll do?"

The clerk gulped, and Harry decided it was time to step in. "Wait, love," he said. "We don't want to ruin our time here with all the paperwork we'll have to fill in if you hex him. Let's go report him to the local law enforcement. They can take care of him without ruining our holiday."

"No, wait," the clerk said, clearly panicking at the thought of law enforcement becoming involved. "I'll get to it right now."

He hurried over to the window and waved his wand, causing the articles to fold and pack themselves neatly in the trunks. He handed them over to their proper owners and watched as they started to leave the shop.

"This is everything?" Harry asked.

"Yes."

"You're certain? Because I wouldn't want to be you if my wife finds out that something is missing."

The man blinked.

"I--I think so. I'll look again, just to make certain."

"You do that," Ginny said, her voice cool.

They opened the door, ready to leave, when they heard the clerk call out, "Wait! How do I know you won't report me?"

Harry glanced back at the man as he ushered Ginny out. "You don't," he said. He felt a rush of satisfaction as he watched the man's face pale.

Ginny was fuming as they left the shop. "How dare they invade our privacy like that? Who do they think they are?"

He took her hand in an attempt to calm her down, but she shook it off, still obviously angry. "What I want to know," he said thoughtfully as he captured her hand again, giving it a quick squeeze, "is how he managed to get a hold of our things in the first place. The hotel boasts of their strict security measures and how much they respect their patrons' privacy. That's why I chose it over the rest."

"Some security," Ginny muttered. "Someone took our things right out of our room and sold them!"

"Yes, well, I don't want to worry about it anymore. We'll talk to the manager and report the theft. For now, I want to enjoy my honeymoon with wife. My _very beautiful _wife."

"You should've let me hex him," Ginny grumbled, but her expression brightened at his compliment, and Harry knew that he'd managed to diffuse the situation.

"Probably, but we're in a foreign country, and I really didn't want you to land yourself in prison. Sometimes discretion is the better part of valour." He pulled her closer and wrapped his arm around her shoulder. "Besides," he added, winking, "I have plans for you. Come on. Let's go swimming."

Much later that evening, the couple sat on a blanket on the beach. Harry's head was in Ginny's lap, and he sighed as she ran her fingers through his hair. The stars were bright in the night sky, and the not-quite-full moon reflected off the water, lending a glow to their surroundings. He didn't think he'd ever been this content.

"Knut for your thoughts," Ginny said as the fingers of her left hand traced patterns across his bare chest. The moonlight glinted off the stones in Ginny's wedding band, and Harry caught her hand in his, bringing it to his lips in a gentle kiss.

"I don't know what I did to deserve you," he said huskily. "But whatever it was, I'm so glad I did it."

"Yeah?" Ginny asked as she leaned down to kiss him. He raised his head to meet her halfway, wrapping his arm around her neck and pulling her as close as he could in the position he was in. The kiss, tender and gentle at first, deepened, as the sound of the ocean's waves echoed in the background.

"Yeah," he said, when they'd ended the kiss, and he let his head flop back down on her lap. "I'm the luckiest bloke in the world."

"Hmmm. If you say so," Ginny replied.

"Oh, definitely, I say so." He rolled over slowly and stood, pulling her up to stand beside him, giving her a passionate kiss before he started walking, tugging her hand so she followed him.

"Where are we going?" she asked, her expression bemused.

He gave her a cocky grin. "I told you I felt lucky."

**End Part I**

**A/N:** Many, many thanks to both **Anka** and **OHGinnyfan** for their amazing betaing, comments, and help with plot development.

And even more thanks to my flist at LJ, who helped me think of ways to torture our favourite couple while they were honeymooning.


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Notes:** For eimajunknown, Holy cow. I so totally didn't expect it to take this long to get this part done. Thanks to OHGinnyfan for the fabulous beta job. She's the best!

xXx

How one bloke could be so unlucky, he'd never know.

The day had started out amazingly. He and Ginny had made love while the sun rose outside their window; he'd watched the rays creep across the floor until they reached the bed and touched Ginny, bathing her in orange-red light that made her hair seem as if it were on fire and her skin glow. He didn't think he'd ever seen her look more beautiful, even though he felt like he said that each time he saw her.

The rest of the morning had gone just as well. They'd fed each other breakfast in bed before showering together (Harry had no problem admitting that he really liked _that_ particular perk of being married) and getting dressed for their day out--they'd decided to try some of the Muggle water sports that were offered nearby.

He dressed faster than Ginny, so he watched from one of the loveseats as she donned her new swimsuit, then added a cover-up and pulled her hair back into a plait. Watching her dress (not to mention watching her _undress_) was yet another perk of married life he was beginning to enjoy.

When she was ready, they left the bungalow, intent on finding something fun to do. They walked hand-in-hand around the pile of complimentary newspapers that had grown on their doorstep overnight. Harry ignored them--he was on his honeymoon, and he had no desire to read about the latest political manoeuvrings or fashion disaster or celebrity scandal.

As they walked, they strolled along the road that ran parallel to the beach, looking at the small souvenir and dive shops lining the street. Ginny was chatting excitedly as they walked, pointing at things that caught her eye and pausing whenever she saw something that really interested her. Harry smiled indulgently and kept a mental list of the things she liked, planning to arrange for a few special items to make their way back to England.

He felt a tug on his hand, and it directed his attention back to his wife. "Look at that, Harry," she said, pointing out towards the water. His eyes widened at the sight in front of him: it looked like small, individual sailboats, each holding a single person, skimming across the water.

"Brilliant," he breathed; it looked almost like flying. "We _have_ to try that." But Ginny was one step ahead of him, as always, and was already dragging him toward a small dive shop advertising sailboarding lessons.

A short time later, the two found themselves in a beginners' class for sailboarding, although they soon were wishing they hadn't bothered. The lesson was an exercise in chaos, and Harry thought it was amazing that no one had drowned while they were out on the water. Not that it was the instructor's fault: he had done everything in his power to ensure the safety and well-being of his students. Unfortunately, there was one student who refused to listen or obey the safety rules.

There was something about him that seemed vaguely familiar to Harry, but he couldn't quite place it. He was a large, beefy, man with thin blond hair peeking out from the cap on his head and a thick moustache on his upper lip. He was wearing a skin-tight, bright red, entirely-too-small swimsuit that Harry wouldn't be caught dead in (he shuddered at the thought), and he went through the lessons as if he fully expected everyone there to cater to his every whim. A thin, simpering woman had attached herself to his side, letting go only when the man had his turn on the board.

Harry rolled his eyes at Ginny as the man tried without success for what seemed to be the thirty-seventh time to stand on the sailboard without capsizing. He looked like an overgrown whale, and Harry and Ginny both sniggered as they watched him flail about trying to catch his balance before slipping into the water with a huge splash. It wasn't until he came up sputtering that Harry recognized him.

"Dudders!" shouted the man's wife as she tried to pull him out of the water.

"_No. _ " Harry shook his head in denial. "Please tell me that's not..."

"What's the matter?" Ginny leaned closer to him, turning her head to follow his horrified gaze over to the floundering man and his wife.

And then his day got even worse.

"Diddy!" "Son!" The shouts came from behind them, from two very familiar voices.

Harry groaned. Why him? Why _them?_ Couldn't he catch a break? He was on his _honeymoon_, for Merlin's sake. And of all the people in the world, he had to run into _them_.

He gave Ginny an agonized look. "It's the Dursleys," he whispered painfully.

"What? _Where?_" she asked loudly.

"Shh! Keep your voice down, Ginny. Maybe they won't notice us." But Harry's luck continued to run the same way it had been for their entire trip: badly.

"You, boy! What are _you_ doing here? And what did you do to Dudley?"

"Hello, Uncle Vernon," Harry said as politely as possible.

"Don't you 'hello' me, boy! I want to know what you did to him. You used that...your..." Vernon voice lowered to a whisper. "Your _thingy_, didn't you?"

Harry looked over to the water, where Dudley was still struggling to rise to his feet, despite the best efforts of his wife, the instructor, and half of the students. He stifled a laugh when Dudley fell again, pulling his wife and half of the crowd with him as he went.

Hiding his smile, he turned to his aunt and uncle. "No, I didn't use magic--"

"Shhh! They might hear you!" Aunt Petunia shrieked, causing several people to turn their heads and look at them.

"They wouldn't pay any attention to us at all if you'd stop shrieking like a banshee and just carry on a conversation in a normal tone," Ginny said.

Harry watched his uncle look his wife over and found himself slightly disgusted at the leering expression that was forming on the man's face. "And _who_ might you be?"

"This is my_ wife_," Harry said, stressing the last word, "Ginny. You've met before."

Vernon looked scornfully at Harry. "Who'd marry a freak like you?"

Ginny stepped forward, her eyes menacing. "I'd watch what you say if I were you," she said forcefully.

"And who's going to make me? Another _freak_ like him?" Vernon said, sneered. "You can't do anything to me here in front of all these people. You're not allowed."

Harry looked back and forth between his wife and his uncle and grinned. He knew who the winner of _this_ battle would be, so he decided to let Ginny continue to handle the situation.

"But didn't you know, _Vernon?_" she said, advancing on him. Harry coughed to cover his laugh when the man took a step back; he weighed several stone more than Ginny, and yet he was obviously afraid of her. "In this town, wizards and Muggles mix freely. There is no limitation on magic--" Petunia gasped at the word--" here," Ginny continued as if nothing had happened.

"In fact..." She took another step forward; Vernon took another step back. "Around here, they actually encourage wizards to use magic. It's part of everyday life."

Harry watched in fascination as Ginny took another step forward and Vernon took another step back. It happened again...and again, until she had him backed up to the edge of the dock.

"Now see here!" Vernon blustered.

"No, _you_ see here!" Ginny demanded, poking her finger in his chest with every word she spoke. "Somehow, despite everything you did while he was growing up..." She sent a scathing glance in Petunia's direction and turned to poke Vernon again. "Harry ended up a brave, caring, loving, amazing man. I don't know how, because looking at your _son_," she said, sneering at the man who had finally lumbered to his feet in the water, "you weren't much better as parents than you were as guardians. You were actually probably worse, now that I think about it."

"How _dare_ you?" Petunia said. Harry thought she looked angrier than he'd ever seen her as she raised her hand to her mouth.

Ginny's voice rose in volume, and Harry watched as the crowd gathered closer, no longer pretending not to listen. "I _dare_ because he saved your worthless arse, you skinny cow."

"Ginny," Harry said, taking her by the arm and trying to lead her away. He was tempted not to, actually, because she was saying things that he'd always _wanted_ to say, but never had. Well, that, and she was bloody beautiful when she was angry like this. He made a mental note that although she was gorgeous in this state, he didn't want to ever be on the receiving end of it.

She shook him off and turned to Petunia. "And _you!_ His mother was your _sister_. And look what you did for her son."

"We fed him, gave him clothes and a home," the older woman said defensively.

"Don't. Move," Ginny ordered Vernon, who had started to edge away from the edge of the dock. She turned back to Petunia.

"You gave him food fit for a dog...or your son," she said derisively.

"Ginny..."

"No, Harry. It has to be said," she told him, keeping her eyes on his aunt. "Your so-called clothes would've been put to better use as rags and your 'home' was nothing like a real home should be, at least to him. You locked him inside his room. You made him sleep in a _cupboard!_" she spat at Petunia.

"Ginny, come on," Harry said, trying to lead her away again. "It's not worth it. _They're_ not worth it."

"You're worth it, Harry," she said softly. "But I'll stop after I say one last thing." She stepped away from Harry and closer to Vernon.

"Boo!"

Harry watched in morbid fascination as the portly man that was his uncle teetered on the edge, arms flailing, and fell into the water with a loud splash.

"_That_ was brilliant!" he told Ginny, adding, "_You_ were brilliant." He leaned forward to give her a lingering kiss. "Thank you, love." He was lifting his head to look his aunt in the eye when a force came out of nowhere, crashing into him and knocking him unconscious.

xXx

Harry felt like he was swimming against a strong current as he awoke. The ebb and flow of voices washed over him and the room was a blur of pale green and white. Where was he? More importantly, where was Ginny?

The second question was answered as she came into view, looking worried. "Oh, good. You're awake."

"Wher'mI?" he managed to mumble. His arm shot out to check the bedside table for his glasses, and Ginny handed them to him and helped him sit. He winced as he became more upright; his jaw and head were killing him.

"St Mary's Hospital for Magical and Muggle Maladies," a Healer said, as he came into the room, chart in hand.

"What happened?" he asked.

Ginny took his hand and sat on the edge of the bed. "What's the last thing you remember?" she asked, watching the man, who had introduced himself as Healer Diotrephes, examine Harry.

"Vernon falling into the bay," he answered with a grin. "Please tell me that really happened, and I'm not just imagining it."

"Oh, he fell in, all right," Ginny replied with a small laugh. "But just as he was going in, Dudley managed to get _out_. He apparently decided that you were attacking your uncle with 'that thingy--'" her fingers made quote marks in the air -- "so he tackled you. His shoulder hit you in the jaw, breaking it, and then your head hit the edge of the deck. You were knocked unconscious and fell into the water. The instructor had to rescue you."

Harry touched his jaw with his free hand. No wonder it hurt so much.

"Then what happened?"

"Then we brought you here," she told him. "Healer Diotrephes says you'll be okay...just a bit sore for a few days."

"And what about the Dursleys?" he asked.

"Gits," Ginny muttered under her breath, before giving Harry a brilliant smile. He squeezed her hand, silently agreeing with her. "Your aunt is fine, and so is your uncle, more's the pity," she continued. "Dudley's been taken to prison, for assault, and his wife--"

Harry choked back an incredulous laugh. "His _wife_?" he asked. "Someone actually married that whale?"

"Amazing, isn't it?" she said, chuckling slightly. "They're apparently on their honeymoon."

Harry snorted, then laughed out loud. "At least _someone's_ having a worse time on their honeymoon than we are."

"Now, Harry," she said, leaning in to whisper seductively in his ear. "It hasn't been _all_ bad, has it?"

His breath caught at the feeling of her breath against his ear. No, it definitely _hadn't_ been all bad.

His head shot up when he heard the Healer clear his throat. "I'm sorry, Mr Potter, but if you and your wife will let me finish up here, we'll let you be on your way."

Ginny stepped back to allow the Healer access to Harry, watching from beside the bed. When he was done, he handed Harry a sheet of parchment with written instructions and a flask of a green potion. "You'll need to take this twice a day for a week, to make sure everything heals properly," he told them. "And you'll need to take it easy for the next couple of days. No strenuous activity, all right?" The Healer looked directly at Ginny when he said this, and she nodded her head. Harry rolled his eyes. Diotrephes was acting like he, Harry, was incapable of taking care of himself.

Harry dressed after the Healer left the room, and he and Ginny were finally able to leave the hospital. They walked hand in hand down the corridor to the lift, entering when it arrived. When the doors closed, Ginny leaned close to him, kissing him gently on the corner of his mouth. "I'm glad you're all right," she said. "I was worried."

He leaned his head down until his forehead touched hers. "I'm fine," he said, kissing her again. It had only been a few hours ago--at breakfast--when they'd last kissed, but he felt like it had been days. He deepened the kiss, pulling her flush against his body, so all that he knew was her lips on his.

"Forget sailboarding," he muttered. "I've got something else I'd rather do." His mind was thinking of all sorts of wicked things he and Ginny could do once they got back to the bungalow.

"Oh, really?" she purred, and he said a silent prayer of thanksgiving to whoever had brought her into his life. "You're supposed to rest, remember?"

He pulled back and grinned at her. "Reckon you'll have to do all the work, then," he said cheekily. He had just started leaning down to kiss her again when the lift doors opened, and they were bombarded by flashes of light and shouted questions.

"Mr Potter! Is it true that you nearly drowned?"

"Mrs Potter! Why did you push Vernon Dursley into the water?"

"Mr Potter! Is it true you threatened Kleftis Peef? And why did you hex him?"

"Mrs Potter! Did you plan to meet Harry's family whilst on your honeymoon?"

"Mr Potter! How has the honeymoon been going?"

Harry looked at his wife, bewildered. _What were they talking about? Who was Kleftis Peef? And how in Merlin's name did they know we were here?_ He grabbed Ginny by they elbow and tried to lead her through the crowd of reporters and photographers, but they pressed in on the couple, effectively cutting off their escape route. Cameras were thrust into their faces, and the questions overlapped until all he could hear were shouts of their last name.

"WHAT IS THE MEANING OF THIS?" The crowd grew quiet and turned toward the source of the shouted question; Harry looked up to see Healer Diotrephes standing at the back of the group of reporters. He was obviously not happy at the chaos he was witnessing in his waiting room.

"Who allowed these people in here?" the Healer asked angrily. "This is a hospital, not a Quidditch pitch. And how did they know the Potters were here in the first place?"

He stepped forward and cleared a path for the couple, elbowing reporters and photographers out of the way whenever they got too close. Harry happened to notice a woman with acid green nail polish trying to break through the rank until she was stopped by a sharp elbow from the Healer. Harry shook his head. _Would that Skeeter woman ever learn_? As soon as they were near the door, the questions started again, louder and more urgent than they were before.

"I'm sorry about this," Diotrephes told them, ignoring the reporters as he ushered the couple out the door. "I'll find out who leaked to the press that you were here--this will be the last day they work at this hospital. Perhaps the last day they work on this island, if I can help it. We take our patient confidentiality very seriously. I'll hold the reporters off while you escape."

They had to take a circuitous route, but they finally made it back to their bungalow, where they collapsed in a heap on the loveseat.

"What caused all _that_?" Harry wondered aloud. Ginny looked at him, her expression incredulous.

"What?" he asked when he saw the look on her face.

She shook her head, clearly exasperated with him. "Harry, you're the Boy-Who-Lived," she explained, somewhat impatiently. "You defeated Voldemort--twice. You're _famous._ What else did you expect when you wound up in hospital?"

"Not that, that's for bloody sure," he grumbled. "I don't want all that." He gestured, waving his hand vaguely. "I don't even know how they found out I was in hospital. And I didn't understand half of what they were asking. Who's that Peef bloke they were talking about? "

Ginny shifted in the seat next to him, acting uncomfortable.

"Ginny?" he asked.

"Ah, yes. Well. About him," she began, turning in her seat to face him fully. "Promise you won't get angry?"

He raised his eyebrow at her.

"Kleftis Peef is the git who tried to sell us our own things," she explained.

"And you know this how?" he asked her, amused. He knew where this conversation was leading; he just didn't want to make it easy on her. She took the mickey out of him often enough, and he thought it was time to turn the tables on her.

"'Kleftis Peef's Pawn Shoppe,'" she retorted. "I read the sign."

"Uh-huh," he said, doubtfully.

"I did!" she said defensively. "On our way out, when I hexed his bits for being such a--"

"Ginny!" Harry said. He was trying to sound scandalised, but he ruined the effect by laughing. "You _hexed_ him? I thought we agreed that it was better that we didn't do anything to him."

"No, _you_ agreed that it was better that we didn't do anything to him."

It was hard to argue with that kind of logic, so he didn't try. "What did you use?"

She beamed at him. "Oh, a little of this, a little of that," she said airily, waving her hand. "He reminded me a bit of Malfoy and the two gits after the DA got a hold of them on the train."

Harry blinked at her and then hauled her into his lap. "You," he said, punctuating his comments with kisses, "are brilliant. Absolutely, completely brilliant. I love you." And then he proceeded to show her how much.

xXx

"I'm famished," he told her, some time later. "We missed lunch."

"And whose fault was that?" she asked cheekily, a blush gracing her cheeks...and her neck...and her...

Harry dragged his attention back to what she was saying. "Yours, of course," he told her. She stretched beside him, causing the sheet to inch lower down her chest, his gaze following it the entire way. "Stop that," he ordered. "Or we'll never get to eat." His stomach growled loudly, providing proof that food was indeed a necessity, and he gave her a mock-glare when she giggled.

"Oh, all right, then," she said dramatically, sitting up and allowing the sheet to fall to her waist. "We can go get some food. We don't want you to starve. After all," she winked, "we need to keep your strength up."

"You don't play fair," he said, reaching for her, but she was too quick for him as she got up, pulling the sheet with her and wrapping it around herself as she walked over to the wardrobe.

She gave him a seductive smile and winked again as she dropped the sheet and grabbed her clothes. "C'mon, Harry. I'm hungry."

Grumbling good-naturedly, he got out of bed and got dressed, but not before stealing a quick kiss and pinching her bum. "Cheeky witch," he told her, laughing as she swatted at his hand.

"I'll show you cheeky," she said, stepping closer to him. He leaned down to kiss her again, but she ducked under his arm and went to the door. "Are you coming or not, Potter? I'm starving!"

Arm in arm, they walked along the shore, trying to decide where they wanted to eat. Eventually they came upon a small, out of the way seafood restaurant and decided to try their luck there.

Harry leaned back at the table, pushing his plate away. His flounder had been excellent, and Ginny couldn't stop raving about her shrimp. The wine was delicious, the atmosphere calming, and the company perfect._ Finally, _he thought, _something's going right. _

"Can we go for a walk along the beach when we get back?" Ginny asked suddenly. Harry had been enjoying watching her savour her dessert and was slightly taken aback at the question, but he readily agreed. There's no way he was going to turn down a moonlit walk with his gorgeous and sexy wife.

Harry paid the waiter, and they left the restaurant intent on returning to the bungalow so they could get rid of things they wouldn't need for their walk. They kicked their shoes off inside the door before heading to the beach. The waves lapped gently at their feet, and the moonlight glinted off of the water.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" Ginny asked, leaning back against his chest. They'd stopped at the edge of the water and looked out into the vastness of the sea.

"Hmmm, beautiful," Harry agreed, although he wasn't looking at the water. Ginny turned in his arms, and Harry bent down to kiss her, but she took a quick, panicked step away from him.

"Ginny?" he asked. "Are you all right?" She was looking pale and a little green. She shook her head and clamped her hand over her mouth. "What's wrong?" he asked her, worried. She really didn't look well.

"Can we go back to the room?" she asked him. There was perspiration on her upper lip and forehead, and she clutched her stomach as if it hurt. "I think I need to lie down for a bit."

"Yeah, all right," he told her. "Here, let me help you, love." He gently put an arm around her waist and pulled her close, supporting her as they walked. "Is this okay?"

Nodding slightly, her lips pressed tightly together, she leaned into him. They could just see the bungalow when she suddenly tore herself from his grasp, turned away from him, and vomited on the edge of the path.

"Ginny!" Harry said, watching helplessly as she emptied her stomach on the ground. When she was done, he conjured a glass of water and handed it, along with his handkerchief, to her. "Better?" he asked when she finished rinsing her mouth out.

"Maybe," she answered shakily. "I haven't been sick like that for ages."

"Here. Let's get you back." He briefly considered picking her up and carrying her the rest of the way, but settled on wrapping his arm around her and supporting her weight so he didn't offend her pride. _But if she gets sick again, I'm carrying her, her pride be damned _he thought.

She was sick twice more on the way back to their room, and by that time, she was so exhausted that she didn't even protest when Harry swept her up in his arms and carried her to the bungalow.

"Ginny?" he said, setting her gently in the armchair in the sitting room. He watched her shiver and wrap her arms around herself as if she was trying to get warm. "Here. Let's get you into the bed." He scooped her up in his arms again and carried her over to the bed, settling her in and pulling the duvet over her. He watched as she snuggled down into the covers, pulling them up to her chin.

"Okay?" he asked. When she nodded, he said, "I'm going to get you something to settle your stomach." Before he left, he brought the rubbish bin over and set it beside the bed, just in case she couldn't make it to the loo in time, then he flooed the hotel desk and requested the ingredients for an anti-nausea potion.

Even as he added the ginger root to her potion, he could hear her retching, and his heart went out to her. By the time he made it back to her, potion in hand, she'd got out of the bed and was lying, pale-faced and sweaty, on the floor. Placing the phial of potion on the floor next to her, he knelt beside her and lifted her head, carefully brushing her hair back from her face.

He brought the phial up to her lips, but she turned her head away. "Come on, Ginny," he said. "Please take this; it'll make you feel better."

She opened her eyes and glared at him. "I'll be sick all over you if you make me drink that," she muttered.

"I can get cleaned up if you do," he told her. "It really will help. I promise."

She eyed him warily before dragging herself to a semi-sitting position, her back leaning against Harry's chest. He offered the phial one more time, and she took it, giving it a mistrustful look before putting it to her lips and drinking. She gagged once or twice, and Harry prepared himself to help her again, but she eventually managed to drink the whole potion, falling back on his chest in exhaustion when she was done.

"That's my girl," he said, brushing his hand through her hair. "Just rest now, and everything will be all right." He held her like that until he was sure she was asleep, then stood and picked her up, kicking off his shoes before moving her to the bed. Getting in beside her, he tucked the duvet over the two of them, and pulled her into his arms, holding her as she slept.

Harry woke the next morning when he felt Ginny stirring beside him. "How do you feel?" he asked, his voice rough with sleep. He winced at the stiffness in his neck when he tried to sit and eventually settled on remaining where he was, Ginny's head on his chest.

She cocked her head as if she were taking a mental inventory. "Better," she answered after several minutes.

"Yeah?"

She nodded against his chest. "Yeah," she said, her voice muffled. "A little hungry, actually."

"Thank Merlin," Harry mumbled. "I was getting worried." He struggled to sit up, bringing her with him and ignoring the pain in his neck as he propped himself up against the headboard. "Any idea what you want to eat?"

She made a face. "Definitely _not_ shrimp. I don't think I'll ever be able to eat them again."

Harry winced sympathetically. Dudley had forced him to drink some sour milk when he was eight, and the thought of it even now, fourteen years later, was enough to make his stomach feel not-quite right. "Toast, then? And tea?"

She smiled gratefully. "Sounds brilliant."

"You look better," he told her when they'd finished eating. The colour was returning to her cheeks and she was losing that sickly green tone she'd had the evening before.

"Are you saying I normally look bad?" she asked, pouting in such a way that Harry grinned, knowing she was having him on.

"Do you really think I'd be stupid enough to answer that question?"

"No, I reckon not; at least not anymore. I've trained you well," she said, giving him a sly look.

He stuck his tongue out at her. "Ha ha. Very funny. I'll show you well-trained."

"Is that an offer or a threat?" she asked, waggling her eyebrows at him and laughing.

"You're obviously feeling better," he said wryly. "What do you want to do today?"

"I _do_ feel better, Harry, but... Would you mind horribly if we just stayed in today? It's just that I've only been up for an hour and I'm already knackered."

"Of course we can stay in today, love," he told her. "I'm supposed to be resting, too. We'll just make a relaxing day of it. Maybe we can see if there're showing a film we want to watch on the telly."

They spent the day snuggling on the sofa and watching some old--and very bad--movies.

"Is this supposed to be scary?" she said, giggling at the scene on the television.

"Oh, I don't know," he said, laughing along with her. "That blob thing was pretty frightening. And the Zombies..." He leered at her, holding his hands out like he was going to attack her, but instead of backing away, she leaned into him and kissed him thoroughly.

"Problem?" she asked, smiling at what he knew was a goofy look on his face.

"Ginny, you're supposed to be resting," he said, putting his hands on her arms and putting some distance between them.

"No, _you're_ supposed to be resting. The Healers haven't said anything about _me_ resting."

"That's only because you're stubborn and won't go see one, even though you were sicking up all night."

"I feel fine," she said, clearly exasperated. "Just a little tired."

"All the more reason for you to rest, then."

"Nice try, Potter."

He raised an eyebrow at her. "Didn't work?"

"Nope," she said cheerfully.

He furrowed his brow, thinking. "I'll make you a deal, then," he bargained with her. "We spend what's left of today resting, get to bed early, and then I'll wake you up in the morning, and we can do whatever you want."

"Anything?" she asked, looking intrigued.

He gulped at the look in her eye. How was he supposed to keep his hands to himself if she was looking at him like that? He gave it a bit of thought before answering her affirmatively, "Anything." He didn't know what he'd got himself into, but he knew it'd be worth it in the end.

"All right, then," Ginny agreed, and she turned her back to him, leaning back against his chest and allowing him to wrap his arms around her.

After two more movies, a bit more snuggling, tickling, kissing and touching, and dinner, they found themselves exhausted and ready for bed. Ginny snuggled up next to him, and Harry draped his arm over her, tucking her head under his chin, He heard her whisper, "I love you, Harry," and he pulled her closer, mumbling his love to her as he drifted off to sleep.

He ran his hand up her curves, stopping to tangle in her hair and she turned to face him, kissing his chest and neck.

"Morning," he murmured, tightening the grip in her hair and turning her face up to his. Their lips met briefly, then again and again, the passion growing between them. She pushed him over onto his back and straddled him, leaning down to kiss him again and running her hands over his chest.

"Ready to let me have my way with you?" she asked, her voice husky.

"Absolutely," he replied, settling back into the bed. She looked incredible. She felt incredible. She _was_ incredible.

_Bam bam bam bam!_

"Ignore it," she whispered into his ear, her tongue tracing the lobe.

_Bam bam bam bam!_

He groaned in frustration. "Maybe they'll just go away if we don't answer," he said hopefully.

_Bam bam bam bam!_

"Ginevra Molly Weasley! Open this door right this very second!"

Ginny's hands stilled on his chest. "Mum?" she whispered. "Is that my _mother_?"

_Bam bam bam bam!_

"Damn it," she said, rolling off of him. "I'm on my honeymoon. What in the name of Merlin does she think she's _doing_?"

Harry fumbled for his glasses and ran his fingers through his already mussed hair. "She's not going to go away until we open the door, is she?" he asked sighing.

Ginny gave an unladylike snort.

"Right. Well, let me get dressed, and I'll see what she wants." He got out of bed and pulled on his jeans, not bothering with his boxers or a shirt, then shuffled over towards the door, attempting to straighten his hair as he went.

"Give it up, Harry," Ginny giggled from the bed. He flashed her a quick smile over his shoulder and sucked in a breath when he saw her, shoulders bare, sheet wrapped around her.

"Aren't you going to get dressed?" he asked.

"No," she said shortly. "We're on our honeymoon. We're married; we're allowed to have sex. She can just live with it. Besides, if you didn't agree with me, you'd have put a shirt on."

He looked down at his bare chest and flushed. He _had _wanted to make a point to Molly.

_Bam bam ba-- _

Harry pulled the door open just as Molly was getting ready to shout Ginny's name again, her hand raised mid-knock.

"Molly, Arthur," he said, leaning against the doorframe, blocking the entrance. "What can I do for you?"

Arthur gave him an embarrassed, apologetic look as Molly tried to look past him into the room.

"Where's Ginny?" she demanded.

"Right here, Mum," Ginny said from behind Harry. She'd got out of bed and wrapped the sheet around her, causing Harry's mind to drift back to the last time she was dressed in a similar manner.

"Ginevra! Why aren't you dressed? What are you doing?"

Harry saw Arthur close his eyes in resignation. "Harry, son, may we come in?" Arthur lowered his voice and leaned in as if to tell Harry a secret. "You know how loud the two of them can get when they have a row. We won't be quite so conspicuous if they're inside when the yelling starts."

Harry winced as he remembered the argument his wife and mother-in-law had had about including Ginny's cousin, whom she'd met only once, as a bridesmaid and stepped aside silently. Molly pushed past him, actually quite brusquely, to her daughter and Arthur gave him another apologetic look.

"I _cannot_ believe you! Look at you. Dressed in nothing more than a bedsheet, answering the door. You look like a scar..."

"Mum, if you call me a scarlet woman, I will not hold myself responsible for my actions. Besides, I didn't answer the door; Harry did. I was out of sight until I knew who it was--"

"Yes, well, no offence to Harry, but _he_ opened the door half-naked. I don't know what he was thinking." She looked at him. "I'm sorry, Harry, dear, but it's the truth. I could have been anyone and you just opened the door, no shirt on, and goodness knows what else is missing."

Ginny sighed heavily. "Mum. We knew it was you as soon as you started screeching my name. Half the island had to have heard you."

"Well, never mind that; that still doesn't explain why he answered the door dressed like that" -- she waved her hand at him -- "or why you're only wearing a bedsheet!"

"Mother, it's half-seven in the morning. We were having a bit of a lie-in. We're on our honeymoon, remember?"

"That's no excuse. And what's more, young lady..."

Harry tuned her out and looked at his father-in-law. "Why _are_ you here?" he asked.

Arthur sighed. "I'm sorry, Harry. But you know Molly. Once she gets a bee in her bonnet, well...there's no stopping her, is there? I decided it might be better if I came along, too. You know, smoothed things over between those two. I knew Ginny wouldn't be very happy about being interrupted."

Harry grinned. "I appreciate that, Mr Weas--Arthur. But I still don't understand what prompted Molly to come in the first place."

"Haven't you looked at the papers recently?" Arthur asked, then shook his head. "Of course you haven't. You're on your honeymoon. I imagine you've found other things to keep you occupied."

Harry felt his face heat and cleared his throat. "Erm, yes. The...sightseeing has been very nice," he said, looking anywhere but in Arthur's eyes.

The older man laughed. "Oh, Harry. It's all right. I have no illusions at all about what the two of you have been doing over the past few days. I'd have been disappointed if it were otherwise, honestly. Molly, however... Well, she's a bit more old-fashioned than I am. And I tried to remind her about what we got up to on our honeymoon and that we needed to leave you two alone. But, when she saw all those things in the papers about the two of you--"

"Wait. What things in the papers?" Harry asked.

"--can't believe you're pregnant and already showing signs and you've been married less than a week!" Molly's voice came ringing through Harry's conversation with Arthur.

"Ah. Well," Arthur said, tipping his head toward the two women still rowing in the other part of the room. "That would be one of them. That Ginny's pregnant and already showing signs."

"But she's _not_ pregnant," Harry said, bewildered.

"That's not what the latest article in _Witch Weekly_ said, Harry. And then there was the story about the two of you skinny-dipping on the hotel beach, and the one in the _Prophet_ about the riot at the dock with some family on holiday, which then later spread into St Mary's. And the one about the shopkeeper..."

"I want to know how they _got_ the photographs of us while we were on the beach," Harry grumbled. "The hotel advertises itself as being extremely discreet, but we haven't seen any discretion at all, except from the manager. The riot on the dock..." Harry shrugged his shoulders. "That _family_ was my relatives – as in my Muggle cousin and his new wife. The dolt brought along my aunt and uncle on his honeymoon. They acted like the total idiots they always have been. It's not like they'd never heard of magic before, but they just have to make it out as something _unnatural_."

"And what about the shopkeeper?" Arthur prodded.

"Ah. Well. That," Harry said, chuckling. "That would be your daughter's doing. She has quite the temper, did you know?"

Arthur chuckled shaking his head. "Ah, yes, Harry, that she does."

At that moment, Harry heard a screech from the sitting room. "You will _not_. We are on our _honeymoon_. I am not having my _parents_ in the same town while I'm on my honeymoon, much less in the same hotel. There is no way in _hell_ that you are staying in our room with us. If that doesn't tell you anything, let me spell it out for you. You and Dad are leaving. You _will_ go back home, Mother, where you'll do whatever it is you do until we show up for the welcome back party you've been planning for us."

"Ginevra Weasley! You will not speak to me in that tone of voice! You need to think of your reputat--"

"It's _Potter_, Mother," Ginny spat. "Ginevra Potter. And I _am_ thinking of _our_ reputation. Can you imagine what the response will be when the damn reporters catch that my _parents_ are staying with us?"

"My daughter will not..."

"Your _daughter_ is now a wife. A married woman, Mother, who's capable of …"

Harry let his head hit the table. "This is never going to end in its own, is it?" he asked Arthur.

"I'm afraid not." Arthur sighed, shaking his head.

"Do _you_ have a problem with any of the things the paper reported?"

Arthur looked Harry straight in the eye. "No. It's all rubbish. Molly knows that, too. She just tends to react first, and do her thinking later. Just like Ginny, actually."

"All right, then. What do you think about a holiday for you and Molly?"

"I-- _What?_" Arthur said. "Wait, what are you talking about?" But Harry had already risen from his seat at the table.

"Pardon me," he said, stepping neatly between Ginny and Molly. "Ginny, could I see you for a minute? In private?" he added as Molly started to follow them.

Ginny was still fuming as he led her away from her mother and over to the wardrobe. "Look, I've had an idea. Why don't you get dressed, and we'll go home?" he said quietly. "I've had it. It's been one disaster after another on this bloody island, and your mother is the last straw. There's no way anyone can get to us at home; we'll have all the privacy we want once we set the wards. Your mum and dad can stay here through next week."

Ginny blinked a moment, contemplating the offer. "Are you certain that's what you want?" Ginny asked him, a smile growing on her face.

"I want to be with you," he said simply. "It doesn't matter where."

She tilted her head and looked at him for a moment. "All right," she said, reaching into the wardrobe and collecting a shirt and simple skirt before kissing him and heading to the loo.

While she was getting ready, Harry pulled on a t-shirt and his trainers, waved his wand, and packed their belongings.

"Harry dear, what are you doing?" Molly asked as clothes flew towards their trunks.

"Packing," he told her, letting the lid of Ginny's trunk fall shut with a quiet click. "We're going home."

"But...but...you can't!" Molly protested. "Tell them, Arthur."

"No, Molly, I'm not telling them anything," said the older man, shaking his head. "They're adults. They're married. They can certainly make up their own minds."

"But…but…the rumours that'll start! The reporters will have a field day with this!" Molly sputtered.

"Yes, they probably will, Mother," Ginny said as she left the loo, brushing her hair. "But they're going to have a hey-day with the fact that my _mother_ raised such a ruckus on this island as it is; may as well give them something else to write about."

Harry grinned at his wife, pulling her into his arms. "You look gorgeous," he said, leaning down to give her a lingering kiss.

"Thanks," she said happily. "Ready?"

He raised his eyebrow at her. "I was born ready," he told her, puffing out his chest in an exaggerated manner. Grinning at her response to his show of masculinity, he pulled away and grabbed the keys to the bungalow, turning to Arthur. "Here you go, Arthur. It's paid out through the end of next week. There are some shops along the docks where you can find suitable clothing for the two of you--avoid a man named Peef, though."

"Bye, Daddy," Ginny said, giving Arthur a kiss on the cheek and her mother a baleful look. "We'll see you in a few weeks." Harry shrunk the trunks and put them in his pocket, thinking they should have done that in the first place and saved themselves some trouble. Taking Ginny's hand in his, he led her outside to the Apparition point, where they vanished from sight.

xXx

**More Notes:**

Kleftis Peef means Thief Thief. A bit redundant, but I couldn't pass up the opportunity to include an inside joke for my family. _Kleftis _is thief in Greek (according to an online Greek dictionary, at least). _Peef_ is how my oldest son used to pronounce thief, when he was about two.

And for those of you out there who doubt that Ginny's illness could appear--and disappear--that quickly, let me assure you that it's quite realistic. Take it from the woman who recently watched the stomach virus from hell race through her family, one after the other, until all six of us had had it. The Potters got off easy.

There's one more chapter (in which we'll finally see the revenge against Ron, Fred, and George) and possibly an epilogue. I solemnly swear that it won't take me six months to get the next part finished.


	3. Chapter 3

_**Author's Notes:** About a million years ago (or so it seems), I started this story. And finally—finally—I've finished it_

_Many thanks and hugs and kisses to Sherylyn, OhGinnyfan, and _emmacmf (aka _Fics by Fumph) for their insight, comma-killing, rewording, and encouragement. You three are awesome._

_As a reminder, since it's been ages since I last updated, this story was started pre-DH. Consequently, in this universe, Fred, Remus, Tonks, and Dobby are all still alive and well. I've DH'd this a _tiny_ bit (by incorporating Audrey as Percy's wife, for example, and having George marry Angelina), but in general, you'll need to read this as if _Deathly Hallows_ never happened._

_Also, this story are based on characters and settings developed by J.K. Rowling. I don't own them, more's the pity, and I'm not getting anything out of posting this fic, other than my own enjoyment and a sense of accomplishment._

* * *

Harry and Ginny arrived at their home three hours later, their arms wrapped around each other and their lips joined in a passionate kiss.

"Brilliant," Harry murmured, lifting his head and gazing into her eyes. "Too bad it wasn't like that the first time I Apparated."

Ginny laughed. "Didn't you Apparate the first time with Professor Dumbledore?"

"Yeah, but..." His mind suddenly caught up with the conversation they were having, and he got the mental image of Apparating while snogging Albus Dumbledore. "Urgh. Ginny! That's just..." He shuddered at the thought.

She grinned wickedly. "I'm just lucky you had such deliberation and determination to make it to our destination." Harry rolled his eyes.

"You know, Harry," Ginny said, and Harry noticed her wicked smile had moved to a twinkle in her eye, "I didn't pack _all_ of my lingerie for our trip. I bet I can find _something_ you'll like if you give me a few minutes."

Harry gulped. He'd been dreaming of her wearing that lingerie for months, and Fred and George's little prank hadn't dampened his enthusiasm for the idea. "Yeah? That would be...erm...I'll just go...kitchen..." He swallowed and tried to stop sputtering long enough to form a complete sentence. It was hard, considering another part of his body was responding to the thoughts he was having. "How long do you need, again?"

"Ten minutes should be enough," she told him. "Maybe you could have a little chat with Dobby about how we don't want to be interrupted?" she suggested, blowing him a kiss. She sauntered towards the stairs, her hips swaying suggestively as she walked. "Ten minutes, Harry. Don't be late."

He stared at her as she started up the stairs, shaking his head to clear it when he couldn't see her anymore. "Right. Dobby. No interruptions," he reminded himself.

In the kitchen, Harry had a brief conversation with Dobby, during which he made the elf promise that he wouldn't go and 'take care of the bad people who ruined Harry Potter sir's time with his Miss Wheezy,' and during which he also extracted a promise to leave the newlyweds alone unless there was absolutely no other choice. Harry left the kitchen whistling, carrying a tray of fruit and cheese along with a bottle of wine, which had been forced upon him by Winky as he left the kitchen. He grinned to himself as he climbed the stairs. For such a small elf, Winky was quite a forceful creature, and she clearly had Dobby wrapped around her little finger. Ron and the twins might call Harry "whipped," but he was certain Dobby had it worse than he did.

Entering their bedroom, he kicked the door shut and placed the tray on the dresser, stopping suddenly when he turned and looked at his wife—his incredibly gorgeous, unbelievably sexy wife—wearing a tiny black outfit that left very little to the imagination. She was lying on the bed on her stomach, her chin in her hands, red hair fanned out over her back. Harry let his eyes trace from the top of her head down to her toes and back again, his gaze stopping to rest on her barely-covered bum, moving up to her breasts as he started undressing, leaving a trail of clothing as he made his way over to the bed.

"You…are…_amazing_," he said, emphasising each word as he shed articles of clothing and then leaning in to kiss her as he arrived at the bed. "I'm so glad you didn't take _everything_ on our trip."

oOo

"What are our plans for the day?" she asked him one morning later that week. She snuggled up beside him, and he leered at her until she slapped his chest playfully. "We've already done that," she said, laughing as his hand traced up her side.

"So?" he asked, moving his hand down towards her bum.

"Harry," she said warningly.

"Oh, all right," he said, pulling away after giving her bum a gentle squeeze. "I thought we might write some letters to your—I mean, _our_— sisters-in-law, and Hermione, of course. To...ah...advise them of the situation, if you know what I mean."

She blinked at him, clearly surprised. "We have to do more than just send an owl to their wives and girlfriend, Harry."

"Oh, I know," he said, grinning madly. "That's why this is just step one of 'Revenge of the Potters'."

Her smile grew to match his. "You're evil. I love it. What are we going to say?"

"Well, I reckon we'll start out with..."

oOo

"There you are!" Hermione said with a smile when Harry and Ginny arrived at the pub where they'd arranged to meet all of the Weasley women, minus Molly. She made a show of checking her watch and gave them a knowing look. "You're late."

"So we are," Ginny said. She winked at Harry, making a show of straightening her hair and clothes.

"_Ginny!_ I can't believe you!" Hermione said, looking scandalised.

"Why?" Harry said, putting his arm around Ginny's shoulder and pulling her close to his side. "It's the truth. We _are_ late." He was grateful that he hadn't even blushed as he spoke. _But really,_ he thought, _what could be more embarrassing than having your in-laws arrive at your honeymoon suite? Hermione's little barb was nothing compared to that._

Ginny started giggling and it wasn't long before Angelina and Katie joined in, their laughter ringing in the room.

"Oh, Hermione," Katie, said, wiping her eyes. "Your expression is priceless." Harry chuckled as Fleur winked at him, and even Audrey, who, as Percy's wife, wasn't known for her effusive sense of humour, cracked a smile.

Hermione huffed and folded her arms over her chest, but it wasn't long before she was laughing, too.

"You two are too bad by half," she said, shaking her head at them.

Harry laughed again when Ginny waggled her eyebrows at him. "Oh, no. We're very, _very_ good, Hermione. Trust me on this one."

"Too much information, Ginevra," Hermione said, laughing and putting her hands up for Ginny to stop. "We didn't need to know _that._" Still giggling a little, she then turned more serious. "Why don't you tell us why we're here, you two. You're still on your honeymoon, so there must be a very good reason."

"And I'd like to know why we had to keep this meeting secret," Audrey said. "I told Percy that I was meeting friends for a girls' night. I'm not sure if he believed it, though."

Katie snorted. "Fred believes everything I tell him. He wasn't suspicious at all. Then again, he was in the middle of researching a prank when I left. I'd be surprised if he even knows I'm gone."

Harry leaned back in his chair. They'd agreed that Ginny would make the presentation to the rest of the ladies.

"We need your help," she said. "And we think it's going to take all of you."

Harry watched in admiration as his brilliant wife (he grinned at the fact that he could now officially call her that; it still made him deliriously happy) told the story of their botched honeymoon, starting with the mistake with the hotel suite on their wedding night. She lingered over the charm that had sewn their undergarments together and stressed that they'd had to sleep in a single bed on their _wedding night_, of all things. She mentioned their missing luggage, the Dursleys, the press, and the arrival of Molly, presenting a tale that had the other women both shocked and outraged on their behalf.

"Those _gits_!" Angelina said after Ginny had finished her story. "I can not believe they'd do that to you."

"You can't be serious, Angie," Katie said. "You're married to George. You know what he's like."

"Did they really spell your lingerie together?" Audrey asked, looking horrified.

"Every last thing I took. And Harry's pants, too," Ginny confirmed.

"What do you need from us, then?" Hermione asked. Her eyes were narrowed, and based on the look on her face, Harry _almost_ felt sorry for Ron. Then he remembered the sore bum he'd received when he fell off the bed and decided Ron deserved everything that was going to happen to him.

He looked at Ginny, who grinned triumphantly. "We'll have to get them back, obviously," she answered. "We wanted to warn you three before we did anything," she said, nodding at Hermione, Angelina, and Katie, "since you might be affected indirectly. And Audrey, we invited you and Fleur because you're both brilliant like the other girls here, and we knew you'd have some ideas we could use."

Audrey smiled at the compliment, and Fleur clapped her hands in excitement. "Oh, this will be so much fun. We will, of course, be honoured to 'elp, non?" She looked around the room at the other women, who all nodded enthusiastically.

Harry sat back and watched as Hermione pulled out some parchment and a quill from her handbag, in order to take notes.

"We don't want to hurt them," Ginny said. "But humiliation is well within the realms of possibility, don't you think, Harry?"

"Absolutely. Humiliation is an absolute necessity," he said, grinning. Ginny turned back to the other women, and they began planning in earnest. Harry was amused to see that even Audrey had something to offer. Maybe she wasn't as straight-laced as he'd thought. Matter of fact, he was finding out she had quite a mischievous streak in her. He wondered if Percy knew about that particular aspect of her personality.

Leaning back in his chair, he watched his wife at work. He was so intent on her that he didn't even notice when Fleur moved into the seat next to him.

"You are 'appy, then?" she asked, beaming at Harry. "Married life…it is wonderful, no?"

Harry glanced over at Ginny, who was over in the corner, talking animatedly to Hermione, her cheeks flushed and her eyes sparkling. "Married life is wonderful, yes," he confirmed, smiling. "I'm happier than I've ever been. Ginny's fabulous. I think I've just been reminded why I shouldn't get on her bad side, though." He nodded towards the group of women across the room, where Ginny was holding court.

"My William, 'e has told me some stories of your Ginny when she was growing up," Fleur said. "You are right to be cautious. There is a reason her bruzzers are afraid of her."

"You'd think they'd have learnt, though," Harry mused. "I mean, she's older, wiser, and more powerful than she was before, and she knows things that she never knew growing up. If she was dangerous before…"

"Ah, yes. Some of zem tend to forget that she is not the five-year-old girl who got stuck in the tree or the ten-year-old who pined after 'The Boy Who Lived,'" Fleur said, giving Harry a cheeky look when she mentioned his 'title.' "Zey forget that she is a woman grown. Not Bill, of course; 'e taught her much of what 'e knew. But the twins and Ron, and even Percy at times… I think Zey do not know exactly 'ow dangerous she is. Do not worry, though, 'arry. Zey will not forget that fact for some time after we are through with zem." She patted his arm and headed back to the other women.

Two hours later, Ginny and the rest of the "Weasley Women" had their revenge plans mapped out. In the end, Harry had mostly sat back and observed as Ginny orchestrated, with help, the Prank of the Century. He looked over to where she was cackling almost evilly with Hermione, Angelina, and Katie. Fleur had added several ideas that made him remember that she was married to a very competent curse-breaker, and even Audrey had got into the act and was giggling madly. His lips curled into a small smile. The Weasley boys weren't going to know what hit them. And he knew they wouldn't forget it, either.

oOo

After the meeting with the Weasley women and Hermione (who was as good as), the Potters spent two more weeks alone, enjoying each other's company and learning the ins and outs of being married. On Fleur's suggestion, they'd visited the French countryside and travelled into Italy. They'd also, again on Fleur's advice, owled Bill and asked him for guidance into investigating the theft of their luggage and sent a letter to Remus and Tonks for help with their prank on Ron. Despite the help of the wives, it had been more difficult to develop a plan for him than it had been for the twins, and they'd decided they needed the advice of a Marauder. The fact that Tonks was almost certain to help Remus with any ideas was just icing on the cake.

At the end of their time together, they decided they were ready to face the world again, although Molly had actually decided _that_ for them by scheduling a party and somehow convincing Dobby that the message with the invitation was an emergency. Harry still had no idea how she'd managed it. Dobby was usually not that easily persuaded.

The day of the party arrived, and Harry and Ginny went over their plans one more time. Bill had come through with a few spells that would greatly enhance the execution of the pranks on the twins, and their earlier owl to Remus and Tonks, who had access to items the others didn't, had opened up a world of possibilities for their revenge on Ron.

"I'm actually looking forward to this party," Harry admitted as they were getting ready to go to The Burrow. "I can't wait to start 'Revenge of the Potters'."

"Me too," Ginny agreed. "Those boys are just lucky I like their wives and don't want to do anything that might hurt them...too much."

"Better them than me," Harry said. "You can be downright scary when you have revenge in mind." He thought back to when he'd arrived at The Burrow after their ill-fated break-up and shuddered dramatically, grinning when she raised one eyebrow at him.

"Don't you forget it, Potter," she said, slapping his arm playfully.

"Never," he promised and bent his head to kiss her, picturing The Burrow in his mind as he did so. They landed precisely where he expected: beside the bench in the front garden of the Burrow.

"Oi! Enough of that, you two."

"That's right. You'll scar us for life if you keep that up."

"Interesting, though, isn't it, Fred?"

"What is, brother-of-mine?"

"I never knew Ginny could hold her breath that long."

"_I_ never knew Harry could."

"Reckon they know we're here?"

"Don't see how they couldn't. Then again—"

"Look at where his hands are."

"Definitely don't know we're here, then. We need to stop this. What've you got?"

Harry heard the noise of the twins rummaging through their pockets and raised his eyes to Ginny's, which were sparkling brightly with barely-restrained laughter. He let one of his hands skim up her back and back down as he palmed his wand with the other. Ginny did the same, and after signalling her with three quick squeezes on her bum, they turned to watch her brothers. Ginny had crossed her arms over her chest and had fixed the boys with her scariest glare, the one that Harry tried to avoid at all costs. It only took a few seconds before one of the twins noticed.

"Er, Fred?"

"Find something good, George? I've got a Puking Pastille, if we could figure out a way to get Harry to take it," Fred said, still looking down at the contents of his pockets. Harry and Ginny smirked at each other, and then at George, who paled considerably and tried to get Fred's attention by poking him in the side.

"Fred!" George said, more insistently this time, as he looked back and forth between his sister and her husband. He was starting to look worried.

"What's the mat—oh! Gin-gin and ickle Harrykins. How nice of you to prise your lips apart for the family," Fred said as he stuffed the objects in his hands back into his pockets.

"Why, thank you, Fred," Ginny said, her hands on her hips. If Harry hadn't known better, he would have thought Ginny and her mother had switched places.

"What brings you two here?" George broke in, a little too chipper. Harry saw that Ginny was still giving George a 'look,' and it was apparently enough to make him temper his behaviour just a bit. Even though he sounded chipper, he looked downright nervous.

Ginny rolled her eyes. "As if you didn't know. How many people did Mum invite?"

"Just the usual crowd," Fred answered. "Remus, Tonks, Bill, and Percy and their wives, and Charlie. And Neville and Luna."

"I thought this was going to be a family thing," Harry said, confused.

George waved his hand airily, but his eyes never left his sister. "You know Mum. _Everyone's_ family. They've all arrived, too." He glanced in the window, where Molly was rushing around, looking agitated. "We'd better get in there. Mum's starting to go spare."

Harry grabbed Ginny's hand as they walked toward the house, pulling her in closer and slinging his arm over her shoulder.

"Sooo…" Fred said slyly. "How was the honeymoon? Anything unexpected come up?"

"It was wonderful, thanks," Ginny answered, giving Harry a quick grin. "Well, except for when our luggage got stolen from our room. We could've done without that happening."

"That's it?" Fred said, "Nothing else? No other problems?"

Harry coughed to cover his laugh at Fred's obvious fishing and glanced at Ginny out of the corner of his eye. They'd decided that in order to get the best effect from their revenge, they had to act as if the twins' prank had never happened.

"No, not really," Harry said noncommittally.

"Well, unless you consider—" Ginny started.

"Yes?" George asked, his enthusiasm seeming to return.

"Oh, nothing," Harry said, steering Ginny into the living room, where the others were sitting.

"What's nothing?" Ron asked.

"The twins were asking if anything went wrong on our honeymoon," Harry said. "And we were telling him no, not really—"

"And then Ginny said, 'unless you consider,' which means something _did_ happen," Fred pointed out. "But she hasn't given us details yet."

"Ugh," Ron said, shuddering theatrically. "Honeymoon…details…Harry…Ginny…. Don't mention those things in the same sentence, please. I'll be scarred for life."

"Ron!" Molly bustled into the room just in time to hear the end of his comments. "Leave your sister alone! Hello, dears, welcome home," she said. Harry watched warily as his mother-in-law walked over to hug them. The last time they'd seen Molly was when she had barged into their honeymoon cottage, and he wasn't certain if Ginny had forgiven her yet.

"Hi, Mum," Ginny said, a little stiffly.

_Apparently not,_ Harry thought. Molly had obviously noticed, too, because her face fell a bit as she hugged Harry,

She stepped back from him and looked at the newlyweds. "I owe you both an apology," she said. "I had no right to barge in on you like that—"

"Wait…What?" Fred asked, almost gleefully. "You barged-"

"—But I was worried," Molly continued, "and so I let my emotions get in the way of my reason."

Harry noticed the twins looking from him and Ginny to Molly to each other and groaned mentally as their grins grew broader.

"You had _guests—_" George said, his expression gleeful.

"On your _honeymoon_?" Fred continued.

"Harrykins, mate, we know you're a noble git, but this is ridiculous." That was George again. Resigned to the inevitable, Harry sat on the sofa.

"I mean, your _honeymoon?_ What were you thinking, inviting Mum and Dad along? Need some pointers?"

"Although," George added, looking contemplative, "if any one of us could give lessons, they'd be the ones to do it."

"Oh, God. Not Mum and Dad, too. Bad enough we have to talk about my best mate and little sister having sex, but you've brought our parents into it now. You've gone too far." Ron turned to Hermione, who was sitting on the arm of his chair, a look of total panic on his face. "Hermione, take pity. Please. _Scourgify_ my brain. I beg you."

Harry snorted as Hermione rolled her eyes at her boyfriend..

"And so I barged in on you two, on your wedding trip." Molly was continuing her speech as if the twins had never said anything. Harry heard a muffled laugh from Remus' direction and looked up just in time to see Tonks elbow him in the ribs, although she was grinning as well.

"Did they show you how it's done, Harry?" Fred asked, a broad grin on his face.

"Shut it, you lot," Ginny said amiably. She'd come over to sit next to Harry and grasped his hand, giving it a quick squeeze. "It's all right, Mum. I mean," she added quickly, "not that we wanted you there, of course. But we did have a fabulous time at home." She grinned wickedly and winked at Harry.

Ron moaned again, and Harry laughed out loud at the expression on his face. Neville wasn't looking much better--he was blushing enough to rival a Weasley caught in their most embarrassing moment. Only Luna looked unaffected, her wide eyes focussed on a corner of the ceiling.

"It's not as if we did anything the two of you have never done," Ginny told Ron. "We _are_ married, after all."

"Yes, but…"

"Oh, hush, Ron," Hermione said. "You're in enough trouble already."

"_Me?_" Ron protested. "Why am I in trouble?"

Hermione crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow at him. "You mean you don't know?" Ron looked confused and she huffed, continuing, "Obviously not. Maybe you'll have to sleep on the sofa until you remember what you did."

"But Hermione_—_"

"Dinner!" Molly interrupted, walking towards the kitchen. "We're eating outside; there's not enough room in here for everyone."

Harry and Ginny hung back as there was a mad dash towards the door, with Ron in the lead. They fell in beside Bill and Fleur as they made their way out into the back garden.

"Everything's set, Harry," Bill told him. "You two remember what you need to do?

Harry nodded and grinned evilly. "I've got the charms, Ginny's got the potions. They'll never know what hit them."

"I can't wait to see their reactions," Bill said, laughing. "Thanks for letting us help with this." He clapped Harry on the shoulder and led Fleur over to the table, ensuring they would have an excellent view of the proceedings.

oOo

Fred and George started squirming halfway through the meal.

Angelina, Katie and Hermione had distracted them with a loud conversation about the usefulness of certain laws being discussed in the Ministry— laws that would affect the twins and how they did business if they passed. Harry snorted when he realized that Hermione was arguing for the increased regulation of cauldron bottoms and that Percy had joined the conversation, just as passionate about the subject as he had been in the summer before Harry's fourth year.

When the twins had joined the discussion—as he and Ginny had known they would, based on the arrangements they'd made—Ginny slipped two drops of a certain potion into each of their goblets and sprinkled a different one on their food. The twins were so involved with the conversation that they blindly ate the food in front of them, totally unaware of what was going to happen. Harry, wand at the ready, waited until the absolute right moment before giving it a subtle wave and non-verbally casting a very specific Invisibility Charm he'd learnt during his training.

The effects were instantaneous, and George started pulling at something around his chest while Fred fidgeted in his seat, looking uncomfortable.

"Why, George," Ginny said, her eyes glinting with mischief, "I didn't know you liked fuchsia. It's not really the best colour for your complexion, though."

"What are you on about, Ginny?" George asked, pulling at his chest again.

Katie looked down at the man beside her and smirked. "A thong, Fred? That's new…are you trying to tell me something? The lace is lovely, though." She sent him a saucy wink.

"What in Merlin's name are you lot talking about? And why do I feel like I'm in a straightjacket?" Fred was now alternating between tugging at his chest and tugging at his bum.

Ron was red in the face, and Bill and Remus were gasping for breath when Harry cast the final charm that allowed the twins to see what they were wearing.

George had on a lurid low-cut fuchsia bra (which, judging by the way he kept tugging at the strap, was approximately two sizes two small) and a pair of lacy pantaloons, much like the ones the twins had provided for Ginny while she and Harry had been on their honeymoon. Fred, on the other hand, sported a lime green thong and matching teddy. It, too, looked to be two sizes too small.

"That's really…disturbing," Harry murmured to Ginny.

"It is, isn't it?" She looked around and started giggling. "Look at Hermione. She looks scared."

"_I'm_ scared, and I'm the one who cast the charm," Harry whispered back. "We told her we wouldn't do something like this to Ron, though; she knows she doesn't need to worry."

"Harry. We're talking about Hermione here. She worries about everything. She's probably making plans right now to help her unborn children revise for their OWLs." She budged her chair over so she could lay her head on his shoulder. "Uh-oh. Look at Mum. Cover your ears, Harry."

"FRED AND GEORGE WEASLEY! WHAT IS THE MEANING OF THIS?"

Harry sniggered at the look of terror on the twins' faces. Apparently, they'd forgotten the cardinal rule of dealing with Molly Weasley—distract and diffuse her before she hit her stride—because by the time either one of them had formulated a response, Molly was well into her rant. It was impressive, really, that one woman could make so much noise.

"Go and change!" she finished. "Now! And don't even _think_ about showing your faces until you have something decent on."

The twins fell out of their chairs and rushed towards the house, stumbling over each other as they went.

The group was silent for a moment, clearly stunned by what had just happened.

"Well," Mr Weasley said, clearing his throat and eyeing the back door. "I think that was more of Fred and George than I've seen in a long time."

"More than I ever wanted to see," Harry murmured to Ginny, before he started laughing. "That was brilliant!"

"It was, wasn't it?" she said smugly, leaning up to give him a kiss.

Harry shrank back into his seat as Molly rounded on them. "That…that was _you?_ Ginevra Weasley—"

"Potter," Ginny and Harry corrected her at the same time. It was enough to throw her off the track and allow them to take control of the situation.

"Potter, then," she conceded. "But what did they do to deserve that show?"

"Other than exist?" Percy muttered softly under his breath.

Harry snorted and raised his eyebrow at Percy, who gave him a small smile in return.

"It was entirely inappropriate, Ginny."

"So was sewing all of the openings of our underthings shut and charming them into one long, tangled mess," Ginny retorted. Harry squeezed her hand, trying to calm her down.

Harry watched as the Weasley brothers who didn't know about their wedding night caught the implications of that statement. Charlie and Ron winced and Percy paled. Arthur, however, burst into laughter. "Serves them right, I should think. Don't you agree, Molly?"

Molly looked at her husband, and then at the rest of her family gathered around the table, before a grin slowly appeared on her face. "I suppose they deserved it." she said, chuckling. As she started levitating the used plates out of the way, making room for the pudding, she made her way over to where Harry and Ginny were sitting and leaned down. "Is that it for the prank, or is there more?" she asked conspiratorially. "And if there's more, can I help?"

oOo

By the time the twins returned, Ron was on his second serving of trifle. They'd managed to find a way to hide most of the lingerie they'd been forced into (the outfits changed every fifteen minutes), but they were still very obviously uncomfortable. Harry wondered if they'd ever figure out how to end the curse. A simple apology is all that was needed—Harry mentally gave Hermione fifty points for _that_ bit of genius—but it didn't look like it would happen anytime soon. Every once in a while, a thin strap or bit of lace or feathers would peek out from underneath the boys' necklines, or one or the other of them would start squirming, and the sight would set the entire table to laughing again.

"Glad I didn't do anything to ruin things for you, mate, if that's they way you two are going about payback," Ron said, looking somewhat revolted by Fred trying to adjust his knickers. "Oi, Fred! That's disgusting!" He was apparently too busy observing the twins' antics, or he would've seen the look Ginny had sent Harry. As it was, he had no idea what hit him.

While Ron was distracted, Harry surreptitiously pointed his wand at his best friend and murmured, "_Perseco dimidium_." He gave Ginny and Hermione a wink as he settled back into his chair to watch as Ron dug into his trifle as if he'd never be allowed to have afters again.

Ginny started giggling first. Ron was still shovelling his trifle in as fast as he could when he started shifting on his seat, budging closer to Hermione, who gave him a disgusted look as she shifted her chair away. He shifted again as he finished his pudding, leaning back into his chair and moaning appreciatively.

And then he was on the ground, spluttering. He got up and stared at his chair, which had lost two of its legs and was balancing precariously on the ones remaining. "What the…"

"Hm," Bill said, examining the chair from across the table. "You seem to be missing half your chair, Ron."

"I actually noticed half my chair was missing, thanks," Ron said sarcastically. What I don't know is what the bloody hell happened to it." Molly and Hermione both gave him a sharp look but kept their comments to themselves, apparently deciding to let his language slide.

"When did Ginny and I get married again, Ron?" Harry asked blandly.

"What does that have to do with my chair?" Ron asked.

"Just answer the question, Ron."

"It was March thirteenth, wasn't it?" Ron said, giving Harry a worried glance. He leaned closer to Harry and whispered, "Blimey, mate. You've only been married for three weeks and you've already forgotten your anniversary? Don't let Ginny know, or you'll be in for it for sure."

Harry looked at him in askance. "Do you really think I'm that stupid?" he asked, quickly holding up his hand to stall the response forming on Ron's lips. "Wait. Don't answer that. Let me assure you that I'm _not_ that stupid. I'm perfectly aware that we were married on the thirteenth. I was just wondering if _you_ were."

"I don't know why you think I should care," he said, shrugging. "It's not my anniversary we're talking about." He slung his arm over Hermione's shoulder and missed the dirty look she gave him.

"Well," Ginny said brightly, "Harry and I wanted to thank you for arranging the hotel for us on our wedding night. It was something…_special_…wasn't it, Harry?"

"Hm. Special," Harry replied. "It was special, all right. Especially since our room only had two single beds."

"Well, that's not so… Wait a minute! I _know _I booked the honeymoon suite for Saturday the twentieth."

"And therein lies the problem, Ron," Harry said.

"What in the name of Merlin's baggy y-fronts are you on about, Harry?"

Harry shook his head. Ron wasn't stupid, but sometimes he just didn't cotton on to some of the details of a situation. "When was the wedding again, Ron?"

"The thirteenth," Ron replied promptly. He waved his wand, restoring his chair.

"And when did you reserve the hotel room for?" Ginny asked.

"The twentieth."

"Do you _not_ see the problem, Ronald?" Ginny said, a smirk on her face as Ron started to sit in his newly-repaired chair. She snorted when half of the chair disappeared as soon as his bum touched it and he fell to the ground in an undignified heap.

"Damn it! Why does this chair keep doing this?" he said, doing a remarkable impression of his mother as he glared at the chair. "Here, Neville, swap with me and let me use your chair."

Neville looked at him in disbelief. "Are you mad? I'm not going to sit in the chair that keeps dumping you to the ground. Find another seat."

"Fine," Ron said shortly. He looked around, as if trying to find someone he could "convince" to give up his seat to him. Finally, he turned to the twins. "Okay, you've had your fun. Fix my chair, please."

Fred and George looked at each other and then turned their gazes towards Harry and Ginny, something akin to admiration showing on their faces. "Sorry, Ronnikins," Fred said.

"But we didn't have anything to do with the 'Incredible Shrinking Chair'," said George.

"More's the pity," Fred continued. "We could make some Galleons with that…if we knew how it was done."

Harry watched as comprehension dawned on Ron's face. "All right, Harry. Very funny. Ha ha. Now can I please sit?"

"Sure you can sit, Ron," Harry replied jovially. "But you might as well just go straight to the ground. It won't matter what you sit on, you're still going to end up down there anyway."

"So whatever it is, it's not on the chair. It's on Ron," George whispered. conspiratorially to Fred, stroking his chin as in deep thought. "Brilliant!"

Ron gave them a sour look before doing as Harry suggested. "I understand why you pranked the twins," he said, "but… why me? I didn't do anything to ruin your honeymoon."

Hermione must have decided to take pity on him, because she answered, "Other than booking the honeymoon suite for the wrong weekend? You're right, you didn't do anything wrong."

"I didn't get the wrong weekend!" Ron protested.

"Yes, you did. You just said so," Ginny said, rolling her eyes. Harry choked back a laugh: Ron looked even more clueless than he usually did. Ginny huffed, obviously irritated. "Have you been Confunded lately, you prat? When did we get married?"

"Blimey, Ginny, can't you remember either?"

"Please tell me you're taking the mickey," Ginny said, "because if you aren't, you've got to be the thickest person to walk the Earth. Of course I remember." She closed her eyes, looking for all the world as if she were praying for patience. "Let me spell it out for you, Ronald."

"All right," he said.

"We—" she pointed at Harry and then herself, "got married on the thirteenth of March. It was a lovely ceremony, and you stood up for Harry. Remember that?" She paused and he nodded. "You had one job—to reserve the hotel for our wedding night. You remember that, too, I assume?" He nodded again. "When you booked the honeymoon suite, you did it for the twentieth, _not_ the thirteenth."

Harry watched as Ron's eyes grew wide and his ears began to turn pink.

"So," Ginny continued, "when Harry went to check us into the hotel, the honeymoon suite wasn't available. In _fact_, there was only one room available. It _was_ lovely," she said, her eyes narrowed as she looked at her brother. Harry noticed how truly formidable she looked as she continued. "Except for the fact that there were only two small beds—beds big enough for only one person each."

"But—" Ron said. The red from Ron's ears had started to move across his cheeks and down his neck, and Harry wondered idly if Ron was just embarrassed that he'd mistaken the dates, or if it was the thought of he and Ginny sharing the bed that was causing the blush.

"I will admit," Ginny said candidly, "that we really didn't _need_ the extra space that a larger bed would've given us." Harry chuckled when Ron blanched at Ginny's insinuation. "But we could've done so much…_more…_if you catch my meaning."

"Oh, God," Ron moaned.

_The latter, then,_ Harry thought. He grinned and looked around the table, taking in the expressions of his friends and family. They were all enjoying Ron's embarrassment. Still. Time to up the ante a bit.

"No worries, though, Ron," he said. "We made do, didn't we Gin?"

"Of course we did," she said. "And we do have that lovely bed at home—"

"Stop, please," Ron begged. "I'm sorry. I made a mistake. It won't happen again."

"What's the matter, Ron?" Neville asked innocently. Harry picked up his cup and took a drink to hide his smile; even Neville had cottoned on to the whole situation and was joining in the fun.

"I—they—_sex_," Ron whispered, flustered.

"It's what married couples do, Ron," Molly said, giving him and then Hermione a pointed look. "You might know that if you ever came to your senses and asked Hermione to marry you."

"She's acting like he hasn't got a clue what sex is," George whispered to Harry and Ginny. "Obviously Mum's never gone over to their flat and seen that they share a bedroom." Ginny giggled and leaned in closer to Harry.

"I know what _it_ is, Mum," Ron said, apparently ignoring Molly's reaction. "I just don't need to hear that Harry and Ginny know what it is. Or what they're doing." Ron visibly shuddered. "What I don't know won't hurt me, right?"

"If you say so, baby brother," Fred said, scratching at the lace peeking out from under his collar.

"I do." Ron shuddered again. "It's more than enough for me to think of the possibility of Ginny having…you know…with Harry. I don't need all the gory details."

"Gory details? Oh, we didn't even come _close_ to the gory details, did we Harry?" Ginny asked. "There was that time—"

Ron groaned again and sat on the ground. "Is every chair I sit in going to dump me on my arse?"

"Yep," Harry answered cheerfully.

"For how long?"

"Ron, Ron, Ron," Ginny said, shaking her head. "You need to work out how to counter this. You don't think we're – _I'm _– going to let you off that easily, do you?" she finished sweetly.

Harry snorted.

"Oh, come on, Gin! It's me! Your brother! Can't you help a bloke out?" Ron pleaded. "Harry, please. Talk some sense into her."

"Oh, no, mate," Harry laughed. "You got yourself into this mess; you need to work out how to get yourself out."

"But Ginny," Hermione chimed in, very seriously. Ron sighed in relief. "You know how Ron is. I'm sure he didn't mean to do anything wrong. He's just a prat. And a thick one at that." She laughed at the indignant look on Ron's face. "You probably ought to give him a hint to how to break the spell. He'll never work it out on his own, I'm certain."

"Oh, alright," Ginny sighed. "There's nothing that can be done until you apologise—" she held her hand up when he started to protest that he already _had_— "_really_ apologise, Ron. None of this mumbling 'I'msorryit'llneverhappenagain' stuff."

Ron hung his head and gazed up at Ginny with a hangdog expression.

"That might work on Hermione," she said sternly, "but you should know it won't work on me."

"I really am sorry, you two," he said. "I don't know what I was thinking when I made the reservation. It was an honest mistake, I promise. And it'll never happen again."

Harry looked at Ginny, his eyebrows raised, asking her silently what she thought of the apology. He was inclined to forgive Ron for his mistake, but he wasn't so sure about Ginny. She held grudges longer than anyone Harry knew—Snape excluded. Ginny stared at her brother with narrowed eyes for a full minute before pulling her wand and moving it in a complicated pattern, mumbling under her breath before extending her hand to him.

"All right. I forgive you," Ginny said as she pulled him up off the ground. "I know you didn't mean to ruin our wedding night."

Ron gave her a relieved smile. "Thanks, Ginny." He turned to Harry and extended his hand tentatively. "All right, mate?" he asked.

Harry grinned as he shook Ron's hand. "Of course," he said promptly. He leaned in towards Ron. "Really, I think you did us a favour," he said quietly. "Being forced to sleep so close to her…"

Ron held his hand up. "Harry. Please stop. For my sanity, if nothing else," he said, shaking his head. "I've learnt entirely too much about my family's sex lives tonight. What I really want to know is how you Vanished half of my chair out from under me. Could come in handy sometime."

"Trade secret," Harry said, grinning again. He stood and started gathering all of the dinner dishes together for washing, waving away Molly's attempts to get him to stop, when they were interrupted by a loud noise at the end of the table.

"Oi!" Fred said. "Stop that, you!" Everyone turned toward him and started laughing at the sight that met their eyes. He was batting his hand ineffectively at a lavender feather boa that had wound its way around his neck and was creeping down his arm and towards Katie. He finally wrestled the thing under control and was holding it when it turned into a black leather corset, which wormed its way under his shirt and into place.

"Can't you make this stop?" he asked Harry.

Harry cocked his head and looked at his wife, whose eyes were sparkling with mirth. "No, I don't think I can. I do believe you're getting everything you deserve," he said.

"Gin-gin?" Fred pleaded.

She pursed her lips and tapped her finger on them, looking like she was thinking very hard, then shook her head. "Nope."

George lifted up his shirt and scratched at the lace on the bright red teddy he was currently wearing. "But you stopped the prank on Ron..."

"So I did," she said.

"And…" George prompted, looking at the long red gloves that were currently forming on his forearms.

"And nothing, dear brother," she replied. "Unlike you, Ron didn't purposely do anything to ruin our honeymoon. He's just an idiot and didn't make the proper reservation. You two, on the other hand," she continued, "jinxed us maliciously. And as such, you need to suffer." She turned to Harry. "Are you ready to go, love? I'm knackered."

Harry watched as she kissed her parents, her sisters-in-law, Hermione, Tonks and Luna on the cheek; hugged Bill, Ron, Charlie, Remus and Neville; and patted the twins on the head as their lingerie changed yet again.

"But Ginny," George said, "what about us?"

"What about you, George?" Ginny said, grabbing Harry's hand as they walked to the door so they could Apparate home. His ears rang with the pleas of her brothers as they left, but he didn't feel too guilty. They deserved everything they got. Besides, it was only temporary, assuming the twins could ever suss out the counter to the combinations of hexes and potions Harry and Ginny had used on them.

Giving one last wave to her parents, Ginny twisted on the spot and disappeared. Harry followed immediately after, but not before he heard one last thing: one of the twins shouting, "_Giiiinnnnyyyy!"_

* * *

_**Author's Notes, part the second: **_

_The spell Harry used to make Ron's seat dump him on the ground, _Perseco dimidium_ means "to cut away half." _

_Also, many thanks to several people from the Potterficweekly forum. Months ago, they helped me come up with the prank Harry and Ginny played on the twins. It just took me forever to use their suggestions._

_Finally, there's one part—the epilogue—left. It'll be up in just a bit. _


	4. Epilogue

**-Ep****ilogue-**

Three days later, Harry and Ginny were summoned to a small, informal gathering (by an invitation written in surprisingly formal language, considering the source). They were met by George and Angelina Weasley, who asked them both in and directed them to the living room. Harry noticed the smirk crossing Angie's face and the black fishnet body-stocking peeking out from under George's shirt, and, when they arrived in the living room, found Katie and Fred in much the same positions.

"The boys have something to say to you," Katie said after everyone had taken their seats. "Don't you, Fred? George?"

"Of course we do, my lovely wife." Katie gave him a sceptical look. "We have it all planned out. I'll go first, and then my illustrious twin will go after. Right, George?"

"Right you are, brother-mine."

Fred stood and turned to Harry and Ginny, straightening his back, he waved his one hand in small circles in front of himself and bowed, while putting on a haughty air. "He looks like Percy," Harry whispered to Ginny.

She cocked her head and looked at her brother. "Almost," she said slowly. "He doesn't have _quite_ the attitude of superiority Percy has. And he's not serious enough." Fred straightened up, cleared his throat and adjusted his facial express into something he must have thought fit the occasion, and Harry and Ginny directed their attention towards him.

"I am sorry I charmed your underthings," Fred said pompously. "I am an idiot who is really not very funny or creative at all. I should be nicer to my sister, the fair Ginevra, because she is superior to me in every way. Furthermore, I should never be allowed to breed or take any actions which might result in accidental breeding."

Harry snorted at the apology, such as it was, and Ginny raised her eyebrow at him. He shrugged his shoulders at her and quirked his own eyebrow. He couldn't help it; the twins made him laugh.

"Well done, Fred," Katie said. "That gets you the right to move off the sofa and into the guest bedroom."

Fred beamed at his wife. "Oh thank you, my wonderful illustrious wife. I hope that my sister dear will be as just as you have been." He made to grab Katie's hand to kiss it, but she pulled it away.

Next, George stepped forward. "I, too, would like to beg your forgiveness, oh great and powerful Weas—erm—Potters. We were unthinking and uncaring, and we never intended to ruin your wedding night, just to make it a bit more…memorable."

"Hmph," Ginny said. "It was memorable, all right." She turned to Harry. "I don't know, Harry. What do you think?"

"They _seem_ sincere," he mused out loud. "Well, sincere for the twins, anyway." He looked at Katie and Angelina, asking them silently what they thought. When they nodded, he shrugged and said, "I'm okay with it."

"Oh, thank you, wise and powerful slayer of Dark Lords," George said, dropping to his knees and prostrating himself on the floor at their feet.

"You are indeed kind and merciful," Fred said, falling to his knees like his brother.

Harry shook his head at their antics. "Yes, well. Unfortunately for you, I don't have the final say in this matter. You'll need to appeal to your sister's good nature."

The twins looked at each other and then as one, flung themselves at Ginny's feet, kissing the hem of her robes.

"Fair Ginevra, strongest and most beautiful of all the Weasleys, forgive us, we beseech you."

"We are not worthy so much as to lick the dirt from your shoes."

Ginny looked down at her brothers, her expression becoming more amused as their outlandish descriptions of her continued. Katie and Angelina were shaking their heads in exasperation as they watched their husbands make fools out of themselves, and Harry himself was finding it hard not to burst out laughing.

"Oh, get up, you two," Ginny said, crossing her arms in front of her chest. Harry smirked as he watched her interact with her brothers. "I'll forgive you—" the twins looked excited— "but I have a couple of conditions that must be met."

"Anything, your graciousness," Fred said bowing at the waist.

"Right. First of all, the grovelling has to stop."

"Done!" they said immediately, standing up and dusting themselves off.

"And_..._" Ginny started.

"There's more?" Fred protested.

"Oh, you'll like this one," Ginny promised. "What do you know about the Dursleys?"

oOo

"I thought you said the Cannons were playing today, Harry," Ron said, looking around. His was the only orange shirt visible in the midst of the royal blue of Puddlemere (which Harry, who felt some loyalty towards Oliver Wood, was wearing) and the grey of the Falmouth Falcons.

Harry made a show of checking the program, feigning surprise when he read the match schedule for Puddlemere United. "Oh. Sorry, mate. The Cannons play next week," he apologised, smirking. "I must've got the dates wrong."

"Bloody hell. Aren't you ever going to forgive me for that? It's been three months. Bad enough that you had to go and tell Hermione that I bollixed it up."

"You'd better be glad that I didn't let Ginny do what she wanted to do to you. She's evil," Harry said, no small amount of pride in his voice when he talked about his wife. "You remember what happened to the twins, don't you? That was all Ginny—Bill and I just helped with the execution."

Ron blanched as he thought about what the two of them had done to Fred and George. "All right, you've got a point. But Harry...the Falcons? They're almost as bad as the Tornadoes."

Harry rolled his eyes. "You're at a professional Quidditch match with your best mate. I wouldn't complain too much if I were you." He turned his gaze to the pitch, watching Oliver warm up. "Wood looks good," he said.

Ron grunted noncommittally and leaned back in his seat. "Still wish it were the Cannons playing instead of the Falcons."

"I'll just talk to Hermione, then," Harry said. "Ask her what her favourite colours are, and whether she prefers feathers or lace. I _know_ Ginny still remembers the spells we'd need, and I'm sure we've still got some of the potions left."

Ron blanched again. "No, no, that's okay. You're right. I should be grateful that I get to see a professional match at all." He looked around at the Puddlemere fans surrounding them. "I can be a Puddlemere fan for the day. Wonder if I can spell my shirt blue, so I don't stick out." Ron paused and cocked his head, looking at Harry. "Say, Harry..." He trailed off uncertainly.

"Mmmm?" Harry said absently. He was focusing on the two Seekers warming up on the pitch.

Ron suddenly straightened in his seat. "You know, you wouldn't have been able to pull this off if I hadn't been on assignment last month. I would've known the Cannons had been forced to change their schedule. I know it like the back of my hand."

Harry smirked again, raising his Omnioculars to his eyes and watching the Puddlemere Seeker as she zipped between her teammates. He knew the instant Ron realised what had happened.

"You _wanker_! You're the reason I got sent on assignment in the first place, aren't you? Tonks didn't need me at all. I thought there was something off about that whole situation," he muttered to himself. "I bet I could've got mail while I was away, too."

"Ladies and gentlemen, I give you England's top investigator," Harry joked.

"Git."

"I'm not the one who made his best mate and his wife spend their wedding night on a single bed," Harry pointed out.

Ron slumped in his seat. "I know, I know. I said I was sorry. I don't know what else to say. I just don't know what I was thinking."

Harry grinned at him. "You're too easy, Ron. You were forgiven a long time ago."

"Hmph," Ron snorted. He looked around the stadium again. "Harry…"

Harry rolled his eyes. "What _now_, Ron?"

"See that witch down there? The one with the paper?"

Harry craned his neck and shifted in his seat until he could spot the woman in question. "The blonde?"

"Yeah," Ron said.

"What about her?"

"Take a good look at the photo on the front page. I think it's the Dursleys."

Harry looked at Ron in shock. "You're having me on."

"No, really. Look, she just put it down. I'm going to ask her if we can look at it." He stood up and crawled down the two rows, stopping in front of the woman. Harry watched Ron gesture and the woman look back at him before she handed Ron the paper.

"Got it," he said, dropping into his seat next to Harry. "She said it was a Muggle gossip rag, but she was happy to lend it to you. I think she fancies you, actually." Harry rolled his eyes as Ron snorted at Harry's reaction. Ron handed the folded paper to him, and he opened it up, snorting when he saw the photo—and the headline:

_**Witchcraft Is Real! Surrey Family Tells How They Fought Wizards...and Won!**_

Underneath the headline was a photograph of his aunt, uncle, and whale of a cousin. They'd been dyed blue with green spots and had a look of sheer terror on their faces.

"Your brothers are geniuses," Harry breathed, looking up at Ron with a huge grin on his face.

"They did this?"

"Oh yeah," Harry said, chuckling. "It was the last bit of payment for that prank they played on our honeymoon. They told us they wanted it to be perfect, so we let them take all the time they needed. I'm glad we did." Harry looked at the photo again and laughed harder. "I wonder what else the twins did to them." He couldn't quite believe the Dursleys would ever admit magic was real to anyone, let alone a gossip rag, without some "assistance". Fred and George must have…encouraged them somehow.

"That's brilliant," Ron said, laughing. "I'm certain the two gits enjoyed themselves immensely as they fulfilled the end of their punishment. So, tell me, did Ginny make them remain in the lingerie until they finished the deed?"

"Nah, she broke the spell as soon as they apologised."

"Lucky prats," Ron said, smacking his leg. "Hey, by the way, did you two ever hear back from the hotel about the luggage theft?"

"Didn't Hermione tell you? I'm certain Ginny said something to her," Harry said shaking his head. "We got a letter of apology and an offer for free lodging for a month from the hotel if we're ever in the area again. They also stated that they caught the culprit. It was one of their employees – remember Romilda Vane from Hogwarts?"

"That girl who put the love potion in those Chocolate Cauldrons I ate in sixth year?" Ron said, shuddering.

"Yeah, that's her," Harry said, nodding. "She's the one who took the luggage. Can you believe it?"

"That girl was mental at Hogwarts. Nice to see she's hasn't changed," Ron said, chuckling.

Harry laughed. "You have that right, mate," he said as he settled in his seat for the start of the match. He motioned a vendor over and paid for two butterbeers. Handing one to Ron, he clicked the bottles together, "To a great game," Harry said.

"To a great game," Ron agreed, smirking at Harry. "Even if it is Puddlemere and the Falcons."

oOo

They were sitting out on the back stoop, watching Ginny and Hermione wander around the garden. They'd invited Ron and Hermione over to celebrate—Harry and Ginny had just celebrated their first anniversary, and they'd spent their dinner laughing at the memory of the twins in their racy lingerie.

"Wedding's coming up soon, isn't it?" Harry asked Ron.

"Three months, one week, and two days," he replied.

"But you're not counting or anything, eh, mate?"

"Heh," Ron said nervously.

Harry turned to his best mate and looked him in the eye. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing."

Harry nodded his head sceptically. "Right. And I'm Voldemort. Try again."

"Harry, I need a favour."

"Yeah? What's that?"

"Well, you and Ginny are so much more well-travelled than Hermione and me. And, well, we were wondering…"

Harry sighed and turned towards his best mate. "Just spit it out, Ron. The worst I'm going to do is say 'no.'"

"Could you…would you help us plan our honeymoon?"

Harry grinned. This was going to be fun.

-end-

_Many thanks and hugs and kisses to Sherylyn, OhGinnyfan, and emmacmf (aka ficsbyfumph). I still owe y'all!_


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